Before bestowing her vast wisdom upon a certain beast of burden and sworn enemy, the great red dragon Aurina resolved to leverage her true draconic might.
She would feast on Richard’s provisions and pilfer his gold coins.
The mere thought of Richard, that utter fool, oblivious to the fact that every morsel of meat he fed her strengthened the dragon’s claw that would one day crush him, filled Aurina with smug delight.
Quack quack quack!
Was there ever a dragon as clever as this king?
The notion made the mutton in her mouth taste all the more succulent.
She tore into it with gusto, crunching bones and roasted flesh alike, her throat pulsing as she swallowed it into her brimming stomach.
But her belly, stuffed to the brim, refused to take more.
Aurina patted her small tummy, coaxing it to make room.
With a forceful gulp, her esophagus compacted the food, carving out just enough space.
She could devour another whole roasted sheep!
Yet the spit over the campfire now held only a barren iron rod and a few twigs.
Once, a succulent sheep had hung there, slathered in red sauce and sprinkled with cumin and spices.
Richard, the sheep’s roaster, clutched half a leg in his hands, having managed only a few bites.
He stared, incredulous, at Aurina’s petite frame—her tiny mouth, her dainty feet.
How had she demolished an entire roasted sheep?
Aurina licked her fingers, turning to Richard and spotting the half-eaten leg in his grip.
A sly grin curled her lips.
Pointing behind him, she shouted, “Look! A giant monster’s behind you!”
Richard, seated on a stone, didn’t budge.
Undeterred, Aurina lunged, jaws wide, revealing pristine shark-like teeth.
She snapped at the leg in his hand, yanking it free.
Richard released it, and the leg landed in her draconic maw.
Aurina tilted her head back triumphantly, the sheep leg dangling from her mouth.
Deliberately, in front of him, she flicked out her pink tongue—longer than Richard could have imagined—and licked the leg in a slow circle, even where his teeth had grazed it.
Richard reached out.
“Wait…”
Aurina’s mouth gaped, and with a crunch of splintering bones, she swallowed the leg whole.
Licking her lips, she crowed, “Quack quack quack! Too late, I’ve eaten it.”
“There was my saliva on it,” Richard protested.
“Quack quack! Does your spit make it yours?”
Aurina’s face flushed with glee as she sucked each finger, popping them loudly one by one.
“What’s in my mouth, in my belly, belongs to me.”
From her earliest days, Aurina had been a champion at snatching food.
Her dragon parents brought back feasts of varying bounty, but she always ate her fill, outwitting her siblings to claim the lion’s share.
Growing up in such a cutthroat nest, Aurina didn’t just master the art of stealing food—she learned how to provoke.
Yet this fool before her seemed blind to her taunts.
Watching her suck her fingers, Richard’s mind wandered to unsavory thoughts.
Sternly, he said, “That’s not ladylike, snatching food others have bitten. You mustn’t steal food, lick where others have bitten, or suck your fingers like that.”
“Pfft!”
Aurina slapped her fingers with her tongue in a frenzy.
“Mad, are you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Richard hesitated.
“It’s just… improper. I can’t put it into words, but it’s wrong.”
Aurina spat a flicker of flame to clean her hands.
“So you are mad.”
Once again, the great red dragon had humiliated her pitiful, foolish foe.
“Regardless, you can’t steal food from others’ mouths like you did today.”
“What about stealing from you?”
“Not even me,” Richard said.
“I’m your guardian. Taking from me is one thing, but don’t dare take from others.”
“Fine,”
Aurina chirped, leaning forward, her red hair spilling over her slender back like a cascade of fire.
Sunlight streamed through the leaves, igniting her locks in a blazing dance.
She pointed at Richard’s nose.
“From now on, this king will only steal from you.”
In that instant, Richard felt her fiery hair leap into his arms, burning against his chest.
“Cough, cough.”
He took a deep breath to steady himself.
“No, that’s still not allowed.”
“Alright, alright.”
Aurina straightened, pointing at the flock of sheep behind him.
“Little bug, hurry up and offer me another roasted sheep. You have three hours.”
Those sheep were Richard’s, bought as provisions for their wilderness travels.
The flock recoiled in fear, and Richard flinched.
“Including the one you ate raw earlier, you’ve already had nearly two sheep!”
“I’m hungry, little bug. Don’t just stand there—get to it!”
Richard raised his hand.
Aurina, defiant, tilted her head up, daring him.
This little bug wouldn’t dare defy me after I’ve humiliated him.
Richard shook his head.
“I don’t want to resort to stick-and-rod discipline.”
“Quack quack quack! You’re scared, little bug, scared of me!”
Thwack!
His hand came down, and Aurina’s head rang like a bell.
She quickly backpedaled.
“Fine, you wretched bug, you’ve got three hours!”
Thwack!
“Four hours! Hurry up, Richard, my patience is thin!”
Thwack!
Aurina clutched her head, voice trembling with a hint of tears.
“Five hours! I’m hungry, and I’m just a little girl!”
Richard lowered his hand.
“And stop calling me ‘little bug.’”
“Got it, Richard.”
She’d lost count of how many times she’d made that promise.
But Aurina always forgot—until a knock on her head jogged her memory.
A breeze stirred, carrying a faint whiff of blood and a stench of weakness, too trivial for her to care about.
“Baa!”
The sheep bleated, panicked, and began to scatter.
Richard stood.
“Alright, stay put and don’t move. I’ll round up the sheep.”
Aurina nodded.
“Mhm.”
As Richard turned and dove after the flock, Aurina bared her shark-like teeth at his back, snarling silently.
Curse you!
Once my power returns, I’ll smash your head right into your chest!
Fuming, she stomped her socked feet, flailing her arms as she imagined pummeling Richard’s skull into his ribcage.
“Oh, right!”
Richard spun back, a sheep hoisted in his arms, catching Aurina mid-tantrum, bouncing with rage.
“What’s wrong? Are you upset about the discipline?”
“Nope!”
Aurina shot upright, forcing a grin.
“I’m… thrilled, really.
Because… I’ll get to eat roasted mutton soon!”
“Good.”
Richard deftly tied the sheep’s legs with rope.
“I was worried that the stick-and-rod discipline was too harsh.”
“Sticks are great!”
Aurina gritted her teeth, plotting to one day wield her own rod against him.
Richard said, “Watch the sheep, don’t eat them raw, and try not to eat anything alive, okay?”
“Mhm.”
Satisfied, Richard walked off.
The tethered sheep locked eyes with Aurina, who flashed her shark-like grin.
“I love munching on baa-baas.”
She pounced.
“Baa!”
The sheep thrashed its bound legs in terror.
Aurina laughed, effortlessly hoisting it with both hands.
But as she prepared to bite, she recalled the flavor of Richard’s roasted mutton—the perfect blend of gamey richness and cumin, the crisp skin giving way to juicy, oily flesh flooding her mouth.
Her mouth watered.
It was far better than raw.
Before she killed Richard, she’d make him her personal chef-slave.
With that, Aurina set the sheep down. Waiting idly for Richard wasn’t her style.
The surrounding greenery was lush, towering trees obscuring distant mountains.
A dirt path with wagon ruts lay nearby, overgrown with weeds and tufts of foxtail grass.
No one had passed this way in a while.
Aurina abandoned the sheep, curiosity pulling her to explore.
In her diminished, “ugly” form, the once-familiar world felt alien and enticing.
The trees were so tall, the bushes so annoying, snagging her hair.
A rock she could hug!
And… something green moving behind the shrubs?
She parted the bushes, and several goblins leapt out.
“Ha!”
In seconds, over twenty goblins emerged from trees, bushes, and rocks, surrounding Aurina, cutting off all escape routes.
Aurina smirked.
“Ugly little things, just my size.”
The green, pot-bellied goblins drooled, clutching a net and lunging at her.
“Got her!”
They were crowded.
The armored human seemed tough, but his tiny female companion would be an easy mark.
They yanked the net—nothing.
Another tug, and they stumbled, the net torn.
Shredded netting lay at Aurina’s white-stockinged feet, a piece clutched in her hand.
She licked her lips.
“Green little snacks, huh?”
“Grab the female!”
A goblin swung a spiked club.
Aurina’s fist shot out, too fast to follow.
The goblin rolled across the ground, his club snapped in two.
She spun as a rusty, hole-ridden chainmail-clad goblin swung a curved blade.
His scarred face twisted in ferocity.
Aurina seized his wrist, slamming him to the ground with a thud.
She swung him left, smashing another goblin, then right, toppling more, wielding him like a child tormenting an insect.
The nearby branches trembled.
“Smelly, filthy,” Aurina muttered, tossing the lifeless blade-wielding goblin aside.
“Shrinking makes the dirt on food so unappetizing.”
The surviving goblins froze, petrified.
Aurina flashed an innocent smile.
“But green snacks are healthy. Come on, little morsels, wash yourselves clean for me to eat. How dare you run? Do you look down on this king?!”
The goblins screamed, scattering.
Aurina charged, hurling rocks, weapons, even corpses, smashing them down.
When Richard, alerted by the noise, rushed back, he found Aurina dangling the last living goblin by its ankle, roasting it with flames to “clean” it.
The goblin’s screams were blood-curdling, its flesh charred.
Aurina shook off the burnt skin. “All clean, ready to eat.”
Richard, stunned, intervened. “Stop! You can’t eat that!”