The kobold was scrambling around her little room, picking up whatever valuables she could find and spreading them out on the table. It was far from neatly arranged, coins and necklaces skittering across the tabletop as she tossed them.

“Oh, this isn’t necessary!”

The meek knight twiddled her fingers together as the kobold continued scurrying around, on hands and knees, in search of anything she might have lost.

The larger girl’s getup was a mix of casual rags and chain armor, hair braids and gauntlets. A jade amulet hung from her neck, completely out of place in comparison to her other articles of drab clothing.

“Aw, I said I’d do it for free, didn’t I?”

The knight, bent at the midsection to accommodate for the low ceiling, looked on as the lizard continued scrounging around on the dirt floor. She seemed to be completely ignoring the knight’s pleas. She did a few laps around the table, before climbing back onto her feet to face her guest.

“You said it, but I never agreed.” A short break to catch her breath. “You’ve done so much for me, for so, so long. Don’t get too humble.”

The knight went to open her mouth, but the kobold’s glance shut it for her.

“I wish I could pay you more, to be honest. This isn’t much.”

“It’s more than I could possibly ask for.”

The kobold shook her head.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t know how you get paid.” Her little claws began pulling and straightening the rusted knick-knacks on her table, arranging them like a vendor at a market. “You’re too nice! You can’t let people take advantage of that, you know.”

The knight plopped down, cross-legged on the floor. She took up an enormous amount of space, far too large for the living area. The room was meant to accommodate a 2-foot-tall lizard, not a 5 foot something human being.

“Well, for your information, this knight stuff’s kind of a side-gig.” She yawned, arms like tree trunks reaching above her head before bumping against the stone ceiling. “I have a job in town.”

“That’s a helluva side-gig. I hope the job treats you well, at least.”

The knight nodded. “It does. It’s honest work.”

The kobold continued scanning over her collection of trinkets, taking hold of them and bringing them close to her eye, pupils dilated and scanning back and forth frantically.

“You know I won’t accept any of this.”

The kobold sighed, setting the necklace she had clutched between her claws on the tabletop.

“I’m not letting you walk out empty handed.” She spoke as though she were exasperated by the knight’s refusal to be paid. “I’d feel terrible if you risked your life for no reason.”

The knight shook her head, doing her best to reassure the defeated-looking kobold.

“It was hardly a risk. Just a couple of bugs, right?”

She went back to twiddling her thumbs, staring down at the dirt floor. It seemed impossibly far away.

“And I didn’t do it for no reason.”

The kobold waited for a moment, testing to see if the human would continue without prompting. But she seemed frozen.

“What was the reason, then?”

Mira shrugged, her thin armour pads shifting awkwardly. A sheepish smile crossed her face.

“I did it for you, I guess! Just wanted to make sure you were safe. That’s all.”

The knights smile was contagious. She couldn’t help but stare at her, desperately hoping that Mira wouldn’t notice. Blood rushed to her cheeks, still revelling in those words.

“See? That’s my reward. Seein’ you all flustered.”

The kobold’s glare whipped to the corner of the room, the little lizard sweating nervously. Mira’s thick, black locks of hair were swept over her eyes, but her sheer size made it near-impossible to avoid looking at her.

“Hila…”

The kobold put her claws over her face. Her own name sounded so dorky when it came out of someone else’s mouth.

“I can see you blushing!”

“Hey, give me a break!” The kobold looked down at her feet, but she could feel the taller girl’s eyes on her. “You’re pretty much the only person that cares about me this much. It’s hard to get used to.”

The knight looked concerned.

“Jeez, really?” She unfolded her legs, letting them sprawl out to the sides of the room. “Surely… someone else helps you out, right? It hadn’t just been me all these years, right?”

The lizard shook her head.

“Why do you think I asked for your help? I live apart from everybody else. My neighbours aren’t exactly fans of me.”

“But you’re so kind!”

Her voice was honey-soaked and comforting, like a warm blanket. The way she took up every square inch of the little cave made her feel safe.

“Yeah, well.” She shrugged. “You’d be the only person that thinks that.”

The knight leaned over, her metal armor swaying along the ground, tracing little lines through the dirt floor. Beyond the bulky metal gauntlets were big, soft hands, stretching out towards her. Without much thought, the kobold wrapped her claws around her fingers, admiring the spots and scars across her knuckle.

“I’m more than happy to be the only one that thinks that.”

Hila maintained the same sheepish smile she’d had on for minutes.

“You’re such a softie, you know that?” The kobold kneaded the dry skin absentmindedly. “You seem so tough when you’re out there doing your thing, swinging your sword about, but… I dunno. We could use more people like you.”

“That’s sweet, Hila, but… come on, now. I’m not soft. I’m pretty ripped.” The knight flexed with her spare arm, much to the kobold’s amusement. She barely had enough room to lift it above chest height.

They laid like that for a while.

Hila’s claws had grown still, resting overtop of the human’s hands. She could feel her spirit coursing through her body. It radiated out of her like sunlight. The little contact she was making was enough to make her feel invincible.

“Mira…”

The knight seemed to have fallen into a trance, more than happy to be a resting place for the lizard. Her eyelids seemed as though they would collapse under their own weight at any moment.

“Mm?”

“What can I do to help you? And be serious with me.” She took a few seconds, mentally shifting her words around. “Like, since I can’t just pay you. What can I do to make you happy?”

The knight pursed her lips as she thought to herself.

“Just… Keep letting me help you.” She screwed her face up at the sound of her own words. “That’s corny, but you get what I mean. I can’t just… leave you to sit here alone all the time! It’s gotta get lonely down here.”

“I can’t send you out on some ‘dangerous quest’ every day, you know. One day, you’ll end up hurt. And I wouldn’t want to do that, anyhow. I’m not in danger as often as you’d think.”

The knight shook her head. “No, no, not like that, I probably wouldn’t be up to that either.”

Hila looked on inquisitively.

“More like, uh…” The knight was deep in thought. “Like… if you needed help running errands, or whatever. Little stuff, like that.”

“Aw, Mira...”

Hila rose to her feet, an intangible sensation urged her to draw closer to the other girl. The kobold moved along the length of her arm, claws trailing across the expanse of skin. Her heart raced faster and faster for every step she took towards the knight. She wanted nothing more but to get wrapped up in her arms, to feel safe.

“I could always use help, but if you’re not up to it, that’s ok.”

“I’m always up to it. I want to be there for you.”

The knight held her hand against the lizard’s back, gently ushering her up and onto her belly. There was a wordless physical intimacy between them, but neither seemed to acknowledge it.

“I want to spend time with you. More time than I already do.”

Hila laid still, letting the gentle motions beneath her guide her own breathing. Mira’s hands clasped overtop of her, interlacing with one another, like a shield.

“Yeah. I… I want that too.”

The kobold smiled softly, looking at the dimly lit cave around her. What was normally lifeless now seemed to breathe, the weeds growing up inbetween the tiles in the floor swaying in an unnatural, underground draft.

A gentle kiss was placed between the stubby horns on her head, lingering for a moment as the larger girl pulled away. She hummed gently, as if it hadn’t happened, waiting to see the lizard’s response.

She couldn’t help but giggle when Hila craned her neck up, a giant grin plastered on her face. In a split second though, her expression turned to confusion.

“What’s wrong? Too fast?”

She shook her head, eyes transfixed on the space beneath her chin. There was a spot beneath the armour around her neck that pulsed with leaf-green light.

The kobold’s voice was soft, and dripping with concern.

“It’s… your amulet is… glowing. Is that bad?”

The knight took hold of the out-of-place amulet, gazing into it as it swung back and forth idly.

“It’s glowing green. I don’t know, that’s kinda ambiguous. Red means bad, blue means good. But green?”

The kobold squirmed out of her grasp reluctantly, taking hold of it with her little claws.

“Where on earth did you get this, anyways?” She flipped it, running a scaled finger over the near-pristine surface of the metal.

“Family heirloom. I dunno, I normally don’t pay it much attention. I just kinda, put it on every morning without thinking too hard about it. This is the first time it’s really acted up like this!”

It continued to pulse in the lizard’s palm, growing ever brighter as she continued holding it.

“This isn’t… human. Not from the looks of it.”

She dangled it in front of her, admiring with a scrutinizing eye. The human whose chest she was kneeling on seemed equally bewildered.

“Huh. We never really kept a family tree going, so. I’m at a loss. My grandma gave this to me without much explanation before she passed.”

The kobold let the amulet fall flat against her neck, giving up on trying to understand it’s magic properties from looks alone. She wasn’t trained in the field of witchcraft and wizardry. She simply had a fondness for trinkets, arcane qualities or no.

“Well, I’d keep an eye on it, but…” The kobold scratched her head, losing her train of thought. “I dunno. I have a book on odd jewelry, somewhere.”

The lizard reached over the larger girl’s shoulder, moving a claw back and forth across her surprisingly extensive collection of reading material. They were all in terrible shape, the spines frayed and falling apart. Some were simply stacks of paper, pressed together with weights. The books she found while scavenging were often in bad condition.

“Oop, there it is. Watch your head.”

Mira ducked as the lizard pulled her hand back, admiring the cover. This one was mostly intact. It had, at one time, been a brilliant deep blue, but had been bleached into a pastel by the years it spent in the sun.

The kobold settled on the knight’s belly, cracking open the book and holding it so Mira could see as well. She seemed to struggle to lift the cover of the book, hefting it open like a cellar door. A cloud of dust poofed out from the corners as she threw it open.

The kobold went to work immediately, burying her nose into it. “Hm.”

She leafed through the wrinkled pages, surprised that the paper wasn’t falling apart in her hand. It seemed as brittle and light as discarded skin. There was no telling what in particular she was looking for, but she seemed focused. Back and forth, back and forth the pages moved, slowly zeroing in on the piece she wanted to examine.

“Right there. At least, I think so.”

She tapped the page with her little claw. The human lifted the amulet into her line of sight, comparing the two.

“It certainly looks like it.” She readjusted her grasp on the chain, watching it dangle in front of her. “Does it say anything about it’s properties?”

She shrugged. “It has a lot here on the materials, but it’s… lacking in the magic department. Guess it’s not of much help then after all.”

The kobold sighed, collapsing into the book, head tucked between the pages like a pillow. Her eyes fluttered while she lay there, content to be still with the woman she admired so much.

The knight was still focused on the swinging amulet, eyes glued to the green glow as it passed back and forth across her vision. There was something peaceful about it, immensely calming, like she could appreciate the little things going on around her. The weight on her belly was chief among them, the lizard acting as a comforting blanket to the knight.

Through the blurred vision beyond the amulet, she could see her, arms and legs flayed out in every direction, doing her best to stay awake. The girl in her peripheral seemed so peaceful, as though her mind wasn’t racing as fast as Mira’s.

She wanted to protect her. To wrap both arms around her, be a shield. She wanted to comfort her when things got bad, and be there to congratulate her on a successful trade. She wanted to kiss her, hug her, fall asleep next to her.

She wanted to be with her, for a long, long time.

The amulet was glowing as bright as the sun, getting brighter for every minute Mira thought of her. Her mind flooded with memories of all the little moments they’d spent together, where they’d almost met, but pulled away out of fear. All the shitty coffee and early morning reports, her daily commute to and from the mines on the outskirts of town. Seeing her smiling face every single time she ducked beneath the wooden frame that opened into her abode.

The amulet popped. It fizzled. And then, it was gone, like someone had blown out a matchstick. The jewel in the center was no longer glowing.

At some point, the kobold had noticed the light, and had climbed up to her to inspect the source. Now, though, she sat bewildered, looking on as though she’d seen a ghost.

“Woah…It didn’t say anything about that.” She glanced nervously around the knight’s face. “You feel alright?”

The knight nodded. Physically, she felt fine. Mentally though, she felt floaty, awash with emotions, as though she had gone through a hundred years of her life without the kobold even noticing.

“This is all a little weird, huh?” The kobold climbed off Mira’s belly, sliding to the floor. “Clearly, there’s something more to this. I think I have… at least ONE book on magic somewhere, but… I’m not sure where it went.”

She wandered off into the kitchen, leaving a bewildered knight staring at her hands in the living area.

“Oh, I’ll get some tea for us, too. Any preference?”

“Oh, no. Anything will do, thank you.”

“That’s good, ‘cause I’ve only got one kind.”

The kobold ducked into the “kitchen”, disappearing from sight.

She hummed around the corner, singing quietly to herself. Mira shivered at the noise of rocks scraping together, the gentle crackling of firewood picking up in volume as she prepared her kettle. Woodsmoke drifted into the living room and out into the main cave system as she toiled over the tea. It wasn’t especially well ventilated in her little domain, but when you were 2 feet tall, it didn’t need to be. The smoke rose far above her head, leaving her unbothered.

The smell wasn’t unpleasant. It was like a cookout, if a little more dangerous, with all her intricately carved wooden furnishings. Had her eyes been open, they would have stung. But Mira was deep in thought, eyes closed, counting on her fingers as she dove back through her family history.

Mom and Dad had been bakers, just like her, nothing especially exceptional. Grandma and Grandpa appeared much the same, but she had trouble believing it to be true. Her adventuring spirit must have come from somewhere.

Everything beyond that generation was fuzzy; there were a handful of cousins, aunts and uncles in other townships, or completely estranged from the family altogether. But she didn’t know any of them well enough to pass judgement. Unless she could consult with the dead, she wouldn’t find the source of the amulet any time soon.

She flipped the pages of the open book on her belly absentmindedly, feeling the weight shift back and forth between her palms. She fanned though it, traced over the wrinkles in the paper, admiring its age without ever opening her eyes. She couldn’t afford much in the way of literature. It was always a treat to pick out reading material from the kobold’s collection.

The number of things she’d borrowed from her over the years had to be in the thousands, a few of which had never been returned. And yet, the kobold insisted that she didn’t do enough for her. The amount of times Hila had offered her a place to sleep, or made her a meal, and she barely gave herself credit for any of it.

Mira could sympathize. No matter what she did, she never felt she was showing her appreciation properly. It was impossible to articulate just how much the little things Hila did for her meant.

“Mira?”

The knight snapped out of her daze, startled awake by the sudden noise. She cringed at the ripping sound the book made, too afraid to look down and see what she had done.

“Yes?”

“Do you take sugar? I can never remember.”

The knight let out a sigh of relief that the kobold hasn’t heard the unfortunate noise.

“No, thank you.”

The kobold went back to work, humming away. She could see only her little claws wrapping roots in cheesecloth, tying them off elegantly with ratty string.

The knight closed her eyes, wincing as she looked down at the paper, too afraid to move her hand for fear of tearing it even more. She chastised herself for treating the old book with such little care.

But, when she opened her eyes, her expression was not one of guilt, or fear. It was one of confusion.

Where there had once been a pudgy, blunted finger, there was now an elegant claw. It pierced through the center of the page, an entry clean as a fish diving into water. She pulled it back through the opening she’d created, watching as the paper pulled back, the cut barely noticeable. They were razor sharp. All 5 of her digits were razor sharp.

Scales pressed tightly to the sides of her long, nimble fingers. They shone in the dim light as she curled and flexed them, entranced by the ever-shifting iridescent patterns of light. Each and every scale glittered like pearls, stained a winter grey.

They continued to blossom out from her knuckles, the silvery plates pushing out from her skin like rose petals before settling next to each other. They flowered out so elegantly, as though they had been underneath the whole time. There was no rush. They lined up perfectly, floating to the surface without so much as a twinge of pain on her behalf.

“Uh, Hila…”

The knights voice was quiet and gentle, wrapped up in the magic. It was barely audible, fading away after the first syllable.

“You might want to… Come see this.”

The lizard ducked her head around the corner, a book under one arm and a chipped set of teacups in the other. She seemed concerned, the knight seemingly engrossed in looking at her own hands. Mira seemed distant, but the confused smile on her face said otherwise.

“Are you alright?”

Mira nodded. She felt fine. Great, in fact, just confused. The smoke around her head was a comforting sensation now, like an all-encompassing pillow. It didn’t sting her eyes or scratch in her throat. It simply felt like it belonged there.

Mira pulled her hands away from her eyes for a few minutes, extending them to the curious kobold. She gauged the lizard’s reaction as she took them into her claws, inspecting them as she did jewelry.

“Woah.”

The knight laughed nervously, her voice yet unaffected.

“And this just came in… now?” She set the tea down on the farthest table, flipping open her other, tattered book. “Weird.”

Big eyes stared down silently at the lizard resting against her side. She was remaining surprisingly calm, flipping through yet another seemingly endless catalogue of information. She hadn’t bothered to move the first book, the two stacked on top of one another.

Mira’s claws reached to scratch at her neck, the wave of scales climbing higher and higher along her throat. It was an odd tickling sensation, like someone was waving a feather beneath her chin. She felt her cheeks flush, drawing flat and angular as the scales progressed along the sides of her face. Her pointed claws traced the elegant lines as everything continued floating to the surface, patches of skin growing fewer and fewer as it raced over her nose, and up towards her hairline. It was far from slow in it’s progress. It moved like an ocean current, washing up her cheeks alongside her fingers.

As if caused by a seismic eruption, bits and pieces of her face began shifting, bones locking into place where they’d previously had no business being. Her skin seemed as pliable as hot metal, twisting, bending, pulling to the will of the amulet. It was only as painful as a minor toothache, too entranced by the appearance of the changes to concern herself with how they felt.

“Ah, here.” The kobold sat the book out in front of her, propping it against the back of her crossed legs. “Can you read the inscription on the back? There should be one.”

The knight fumbled with the amulet, her thumbs retracted and useless in the interaction. She grasped it gently between her claws, flipping it to the back.

The words seemed far away, growing ever farther as a plateau of flattened scales pushed away from her. Her jaw hung open as it snapped and popped, teeth multiplying, sprouting up from her gums like flowers. She squinted her eyes, peering down the length of the still-growing muzzle at the inscription.

The words were not human. She already knew that. Crude scratches and dots in the surface of the otherwise flawless backing. No one in her township had seemed to know either, and after a while, her curiosity had vanished. Not knowing what it read was a mystery of life that she had simply accepted.

She shrugged with broadening shoulders, letting her girlfriend climb up onto her to read it for herself.

“Well, it’s certainly a match.” She let the amulet fall flat against her chest, clinking against the scales as it contacted. “With what, though, I dunno for sure. My Latin is a little rough, so you’ll need to give me a minute.”

The dragon nodded silently, too afraid to speak for fear of what her voice would sound like. Everything was changing so quickly, she hardly had time to mark it all before she moved on to the next thing. Her fat tongue flicked over the pews of razor-sharp teeth, her gums blackened like soot.

The scales snipped the hair from her head as they eclipsed the crown of her angular skull, little black locks drifting down her scaly back and landing amongst the dirt on the floor. The little patches of scales split and parted at random, a collection of black horns, big and small, sprouting from her head. They streaked symmetrically down her neck, the keratin pushing out and down her skin like tree roots.

She resettled herself, flipping onto her belly as the changes continued. The kobold that had been laying on top of her rolled off onto the floor, continuing to read, as though completely unaffected.

“Ok, so. Here’s the gist of what’s happening. And I’m paraphrasing a lot, so bear with me.”

The dragon turned to look over her shoulder, grimacing at the nightstand she’d flattened. The kobold seemed unaware, eyes glued to the page.

“The amulet, while worn by someone with latent dragon blood, possesses the ability to mutate and reform the wearers body. Somethin’, somethin’, there’s a lot of useless science garbage.” She paused for a moment, mumbling as she read on without Mira. “Ah, here. Activated by a sudden, strong desire to protect.”

The dragon blushed deeply, covering her long, pointed snout with her claws.

“Aw… you’re such a softie.” She cleared her throat, setting the book down and admiring the changes taking place. “I imagine that was probably intended for use with full parties, and not so much ‘big crush on a lizard girl’, but hey. There’s no real instructions, are there?”

She stood up, pacing around the knight and admiring the odd way her muscles and pulled and contracted. They seemed fluid, moving without resistance beneath the skin.

What was still left of her tattered rags and chainmail armor was tearing, links of metal snapping apart and crumpling to the floor to reveal her scaled sides. Even the amulet had broken off, laying in one piece on the floor. Nothing she couldn’t fix. Mira hardly seemed to notice, mind focused on other things.

She was a sight to behold. Her arms and legs were splayed out to all sides, now fully scaled. They thickened with every passing second, bending at odd angles until they were indistinguishable from one another in function. Hila stepped over them as she continued her inspection, running a gentle claw along her side, letting it catch on all the blunted points of her scales.

The dragon grunted, bringing her knees beneath her again and planting her claws firmly against the floor. She raised her bottom off the ground, twitching and swaying back and forth, as though she were becoming antsy. The lizard backed away, watching as the sharp appendages dug through the soil, curling into themselves. Mira’s face twisted, back arching like a frightened cat. The line of horns that had been rolling down her back slowed to a stop near her lower back, and then, all at once, exploded outwards.

The tail pierced through the air like a rapier, cracking against the rock wall before growing limp and flopping to the ground unceremoniously. The kobold marvelled at the cracked rock, astonished by the sheer force of the change. The protrusions continued along at their previous pace, poking out along the same line, more ground to cover than they had previously been allowed.

Hila stumbled as the tail whapped back and forth, sending bits of dirt up into the air. It was plush, and unreasonably long, coiling in on itself once it had finished fattening. Coiling in around Hila. She blushed deeply, letting the scales of the larger girl envelop her. Suddenly, she had the best seat in the house.

Mira seemed unaware of the kobold’s predicament, the mix of odd sensations from every part of her clashing in the middle of her being. She couldn’t figure out what to focus on, opting for nothing in particular, letting them all wash over her. Changes of this magnitude only happened once in a lifetime, and she didn’t plan on missing out on anything.

It was strangely relaxing to let her body grow. Her spine crackled as it grew longer, a natural curve forming along the length of her back. Two little nubs poked from either side of her spine, remaining dormant as the rest of her growth took place. The stiffness she had felt previously was melting away, slowly, as she took up more and more of the little living space. It was as though she’d been crammed into a little box for her entire life, and had finally been let out. Her foreclaws were laid comfortably below her midsection, her hind legs resting on the portion of her tail not wrapped around the smaller lizard. She sat much like a common housecat, but far, far larger.

She had been chubby as a human being, and it had seemingly carried over to her dragon form. She rested comfortably on her own belly, the muscle from years of hard work sitting just below the surface. She was extremely content to stay right where she was.

Her head brushed the roof of the room, even sitting down. She grumbled, laying her chin on the kobold’s loveseat to make room for her enormous form. The amount of furniture she’d demolished in such a short time was embarrassing, but it couldn’t be helped. She was getting larger, there was no changing that.

And she was still growing. She could hear the stone ceiling cracking as her back pressed against it, harder and harder every second. Little rocks crumbled off and rolled down her sides.

The kobold had been suspiciously quiet. Somewhat concerned, the dragon glanced around the room, but didn’t see her anywhere.

“Hila?”

Her voice was as sunny as ever, but it was clouded over with thick smoke. There was a delicate rasp to her voice, kissed by fire.

The kobold replied from behind her weakly, as if half asleep. It was barely intelligible. She craned her neck to peer down the length of her back, more than happy to see the gentle smile and half-lidded eyes of the lizard. She’d fallen asleep in the coils of her tail.

“I think I’m… almost done... with whatever this is.”

The kobold glanced up at her, eyes opening fully. She sat with her mouth agape as she marvelled at the seemingly impossible changes. Where there had once been a human being, there was now a creature 6 times her size, sprawled out across the whole of her living room like a domestic dog. Indeed, she was nearly complete: grey scales, black horns, a tail whose length extended far beyond her own. But it wasn’t… everything. Something was missing.

“What about your wings?”

As if on cue, the dragon before her bit her lip and pressed her head into the cushions, her body quaking. The kobold shielded her eyes, watching as the nubs on her back quivered with potential energy. And then, a thunderous noise, like sails on a boat catching a strong gust of wind, followed by the skittering of rocks.

The kobold was shocked at their length, reaching from one end of the room to the other. They scraped the walls as they stood out awkwardly. A velvety grey, same as the rest of her, made up the majority of the wing, just thin enough to let the dim light of her cave through. The kobold took a moment to marvel that she hadn’t knocked the candles out of their sconces yet, seeing how much damage she’d caused in every other area of her home.

Mira reached out to either side of her, trying desperately to bring them both back to her sides, but it was no use. They were stiff and awkward, completely new appendages that she had no experience with.

Regardless, she had bigger concerns to worry about. The crumbling from above was now a cracking, larger rocks tumbling down around her as the dragon’s back rose further and further into the roof. The cracks splintered out from the origin in every direction, growing more and more numerous for every second her muscles continued to pulse and strengthen.

Mira was fully aware, panicked eyes darting back and forth as she attempted to get lower to the ground. But there was no such luck. She could only dig so far into the dirt beneath her feet before she met with the same rock as above.

In a short moment of lucidity, the dragon whipped her tail to her side, wrapping Hila completely in her coils, and extending a long tarp-like wing to put a roof over her head. Her other wing went to cover as many valuables as there were still unbroken, the books scattered across the floor shrouded in the shadow of her wing. She, herself, would be fine. She was sure of it.

But there was no question. Hila’s humble abode was too close to the surface. The roof was caving in.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her kobold as close as she could possibly manage, pulling all her limbs back to sit beneath her. Hila would not be hurt. She wouldn’t allow it.

There was a crack, louder than all the others, that splintered all the way to the topsoil. A downfall of debris rained down over her, rocks skittering across the surface of other rocks. And then, there was silence.

---

The pile of rubble stirred to life mere after it was created. Like two tremendous explosions, the debris blew apart, winter-grey wings emerging like swans. Beneath the one wing lay an odd collection of items: books, teacups, table legs. A hundred or so gold chains and trinkets. Beneath the other, something more valuable than everything else combined.

Hila’s little face poked between the coils of tail, completely unscathed. Despite the whole of her house collapsing in on herself, she seemed rather unaffected. She squinted at the sun, surprised to see how much time had passed since Mira’s morning visit.

“Jeez.”

The dragon shook the last bits of rock dust from her head.

“Jeez indeed. Sorry, I didn’t think for a minute that that would happen.” She uncoiled her tail, letting the kobold slump back against it lazily. “One doesn’t exactly plan to be turned into a dragon, I suppose.”

Hila was pleased to see her valued possessions were still (mostly) in one piece, if nothing else. She was even happier to find the dragon unscathed.

“Well, I said I’d knock the roof out to make room for you, didn’t I?”

The dragon stifled a giggle.

“Though, I have to say, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

A few of her neighbours surfaced, mouths agape at the strange sights before them. Not one of them spoke a word, some opting to retreat back into the rock. Obviously, they’d caused quite a commotion.

“I’m sure I can find us another place.” The dragon nuzzled the kobold with her scaly snout, doing her best to reassure the worry-stricken lizard. “There’s no shortage of cave systems around here, right? There’s gotta be some place we can settle down. In private.”

She turned to look at the gathering of kobolds, who quickly scattered away when they met her gaze.

The kobold let a little smile slip out. “On the bright side, you’ve drastically reduced the amount of furniture I need to move.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No, no. After getting wrapped up in your tail, I don’t think I could go back to a regular bed anyways.”

The dragon bowed her head and blushed, a sheepish smile poking at the corners of her mouth. Even as a dragon, she seemed bashful.

The two of them sighed in unison, looking up to the sky, reluctant to move from the pile of rubble they’d found themselves in. A short break was in order.

“Wow.” The kobold climbed to her feet, moving overtop of her impressive trinket collection with relative ease. “I can’t believe this survived.”

The dragon lifted her head to look in her direction, laughing when the lizard pulled the teapot from the wreckage.

“It chipped, but it didn’t spill.” She blew the dust off it’s lid. “it seems we’ve got a lot of discussion to do moving forwards, so… are you still up for a tea-time chat?”

Mira giggled to herself.

“Of course.”