(Dorien’s Point of View)

I had been completely unleashed for the last two days. During that time, I had returned to acting like a dragon. Not just babbling with growls, but screaming with all the strength of my tiny lungs. I had stopped allowing others to interact with me on good terms. I had stopped pretending to be the docile child; now I was back in the wild, moving with a purpose—the same one I had grown up with in the mountains: survive, eat, sleep, and explore.

I thrashed about, flailing my hands in an attempt to knock over every object I found, imagining the sensation of my claws doing it. Biting was a way to remember the edge of my fangs. Chasing the servants made them my frightened prey. My body—this small, soft human cocoon—I had finally grown accustomed to it again, and although my balance still wasn't the best, at least I could move with much more freedom, enough to carry out my hunt. Every time I lunged into the pursuit, I felt how my muscles tensed, how my speed increased, and how the agility that should be impossible for a baby returned to me.

I thought I felt like a dragon again. The logic was brutal and simple: a great shock had transformed me, and only a great danger or trauma could reverse the process. Now I just needed to go through an experience like the one I had with the "King of the Mountain" again. I needed to feel the fear, the desperation, the sensation of reaching the end so that my physical form—my dragon body—would be forced to manifest to protect me.

I was about to attempt to crawl up the main staircase when Lya took me in her arms.

Her grip was soft but firm. She lifted me from the floor, and my fury met her incomprehensible enthusiasm.

“My little Dorien!” she said, her voice cheerful and a bit breathless. “Edrin is right. You’ve been locked up in this old house for too long. Maybe you just need to get some fresh air to calm down again!”

Calm down? She didn’t understand anything. I didn't want to calm down; I wanted to wake up. But I had no time to protest. Lya carried me, running toward the mansion’s back garden. She thought a picnic would help me run around and air myself out after being inside for so long.

The moment she placed me on the grass, I felt a sense of nostalgia—the damp ground beneath my feet and hands. Regardless of whether it was on the mountain or in the garden, touching that earth again was a sensation I cannot explain. I looked at the sky; the clouds were still there despite me being gone for so many days, and the wind hit my face, moving the little hair I had and blocking my view. Lya laughed seeing me so fascinated with my surroundings, which seemed to leave her much more at ease.

Then I saw it.

It was a hare. Small, nervous, with brown fur, exactly like the ones I had been hunting in the mountains. It was about fifteen meters away, nibbling on a clover leaf.

It was the opportunity.

I took advantage of the distraction from Lya, who was busy spreading out the tablecloth, and lunged toward the hare.

First, crawling. My body moved with the fluidity I had practiced while hunting the servants and hiding among the furniture. I was fast, silent. Instinct took over, and the world was reduced to just the hare and me.

But my small human body eventually gave out; the uneven terrain and lack of balance wouldn't let me reach my full potential.

I made a brutal effort, concentrating all my will on standing up. The sensation was strange—my human knees and ankles protested—but suddenly, I managed to get on two feet and run. At first, it was a clumsy stumble, what you would expect from a child taking his first steps, but once I got used to the position, those small, clumsy steps turned into a rapid gallop.

I could feel great speed, pushing my legs with a force that far exceeded my physical capabilities. I saw it clearly; the hare was the only point of focus, and I could catch it.

I could hear Lya’s voice in the background, a distant, high-pitched sound, but I wasn't listening. I could only feel the wind whistling in my ears, pure adrenaline. The hare was still too far from me; no matter how fast I was, it had the advantage. My small, clumsy hand reached out. And then, the hare disappeared in front of me.

It had dived—not into a hole, but into the void.

That was when I saw it. A few steps ahead of me, where the grass ended, there was a small drop that led to the lower part of the river, which flowed silently at the foot of the embankment. It was a drop of about three meters, filled with loose rocks. I suppose that was what Lya had been screaming about.

It was perfect. It was better than the stairs. I took a deep breath. The fall would be hard… it could be the pressure my body needed to finally transform, to protect me from a fatal impact.

The fear, the fall, the imminent end—everything happening in the few seconds where my feet left the ground. Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't have stopped; I had too much momentum from chasing the hare.

But the fall was cut short.

There was no impact, no pain, only the sensation of being caught in mid-air. It was Lya. She had grabbed me by the waist with great strength just before my body could start rolling down the slope. She held me with surprising and desperate strength in her arms.

I was annoyed. No, wait—annoyed is an understatement; I was furious. And with the shock of being caught—the same sensation of rage and fear I had when I faced the "King of the Mountain"—I thrashed in her grip and bit her hard. It was all pure instinct, and despite my teeth not being fully developed yet, with all the strength I had, that bite was truly powerful. A desperate and painful attempt to free myself from her grip. I sank my small teeth as hard as I could into her arm, all while struggling violently to escape her.

The surprising thing was that she didn't let go. She had quite a bit of strength herself; she didn't let go for a single second, not even with the evident pain she must have been feeling. Instead of dropping me or throwing me away, I noticed how she hugged me even tighter. With a warmth that felt strange, intense. Her body trembled slightly; I looked at her, and she wasn't angry, nor did she seem annoyed. She only gave me a soft smile accompanied by tears that dampened her eyes. All while she continued to hug me, stroking my head.

"It’s okay, Dorien, calm down. If you need to bite, go ahead, I’m here for you."

Slowly, I pulled my mouth away from her arm. Bite marks remained; I had gone quite deep.

"You wanted to play with the hare, didn't you? Just... please be careful." Her voice broke for an instant.

In that moment, every thought about the transformation, the fall—everything disappeared. I felt terrible. In the same way the hare's instinct had been to escape me, Lya's had been to catch me and try to calm me down. All to save me from that fall, and I had responded with violence.

I clenched my tiny hands around her. No matter how much I wanted to recover my body, something in me wouldn't let me do it at the cost of causing harm to someone else. I let that sensation envelop me—that love and affection Lya had for me. It felt warm. Warmer, more real, and more protective than I had ever been, even within my own egg or with all those pillows and blankets in my crib. This was real.

I buried my face in her neck, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. And for the first time since I had been in this human body, instead of a growl, I managed to articulate a few words clearly.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

Lya froze for an instant. Then, her face lit up with a smile so radiant, so pure, that it eclipsed the midday sun. Her tears of worry turned into tears of pure joy.

“Dorien! You said it! You said your first words! And so young... You’re a little genius!”

She took me in her arms again, spinning around on the grass, laughing out loud. The strength she had was surprising, though I preferred the hug over the dizziness that the movement was causing me.

Please, I already apologized, put me down... I could feel my stomach turning with every spin she took.

Then, I heard the unmistakable sound of Alister’s horses arriving along the main road. Without letting go of me, she ran toward the entrance, shouting at the top of her lungs so he would hear: “Alister! Alister! He said his first words! Our Dorien has spoken!”

Lya was a strange woman, a human of extreme emotions, but her warmth was undeniable.

As I clung to her, I felt the urgency of the transformation dissipate like smoke. If I transformed into a dragon now, I would have to leave forever. I couldn't stay; I couldn't exist in the human world as a dragon.

And I wondered, what if I didn't have to leave just yet? What if I could take advantage of this, to enjoy all of this a little longer?

Why was I in such a hurry to leave? I have all the time in the world to return to my old body... I’ll just stay a little longer, just a little.

For now, I would stay. I could take the opportunity to learn something new, or be able to rest without having to worry about being attacked by some strange creature again.

Just a little longer. What harm could a few more days do?