but imagine if we had tiny little dragons
the size of puppies
and they would go wherever we went sitting on our shoulders and hissing at everyone who tried to touch you because you’re their most special thing in the universe and they are so tiny it’s ridiculously cute
the fact that this post has more notes than i ever expected makes me really glad
[[Here’s a relevant bit from Men At Arms by Terry Pratchett, a conversation between Lady Sybil Ramkin, head of the Sunshine Sanctuary for Sick Dragons, and her husband, Captain Sam Vimes of the Ahnk-Morpork Night Watch.]]
"Now off you go and keep the streets safe for all of us. And if you want to do something really useful, you could find Chubby.”
"He got out of his pen last night."
"A dragon?" Vimes groaned, and pulled a cheap cigar out of his pocket. Swamp dragons were becoming a minor nuisance in the city. Lady Ramkin got very angry about it. People would buy them when they were six inches long as a cute way of lighting fires and then, when they were burning the furniture and leaving corrosive holes in the carpet, the floor and the cellar ceiling underneath it, they’d be shoved out to fend for themselves.
"We rescued him from a blacksmith in Easy Street," said Lady Ramkin. "I said ‘My good man, you can use a forge like everyone else.’ Poor little thing."
…Vimes reached down into a pen of hatchlings and picked up a small one, which flapped its stubby wings excitedly. It spurted a brief jet of blue flame. Vimes inhaled quickly.