The dragon looked to you with her dewy eyes and cried out "Meat! Want meat!" You are surprised at how dragons could speak as wyrmlings, but a request is a request. You carried her home to your house, remembering you definitely have some meat there. Her scales were still wet from the egg, and felt like that of a serpent. You also took care not to crush her still fragile wings, which each were roughly as large as her body and looked webbed as bat wings. You especially took care not to be seen, as you would have to answer many questions you were not prepared to right now.
When you reached home, you set the wyrmling on your couch and searched through the freezer and refrigerator. There is a small supply of raw meat for your friend's cookout next week and some breaded fish patties, but the only ready meat is some leftover hot wings. You place them on a plate and stick them in the microwave oven for thirty seconds. You then turn to watch your new daughter, and see...
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