Status Unknown Fable

In a forest, the day was quiet in the dawn

Silence reigned, but it reigned not for long

A yellow finch made its calls, as it was a songbird

The yellow finch made its calls, hoping to be heard

It was a calm, sunny, cool, late fall day

The tops of the trees with their leaves in the breeze they would sway

The creaking of branches, the creaking of trees

The groaning of wood, as the forest sways with the breeze

All these sounds of the day are what make it silent

The songbird is upstaged by another’s voice, a voice that’s defiant

Piercing the trees comes a definite wail

The source of this sound cannot barely flail

A life that’s desperate, needy, and wants to be coddled

Screaming and kicking, the garment is now loosely swaddled

The forest was quiet, but now cacophonous with sound

Two voices calling, both wishing to be found

The finch, calling out, searching for a mate

The other, a babe, as hungry as it is cold, for it has not ate

The finch, crying louder, raising its voice to compete

The babe crying loudly; wishing to be warm, held, and to eat

The finch continued trying to be the victor

With a sore throat and empty tummy, the babe quieted with a whimper

No one would be there for the crying, squalling, whelp

It had given up crying; no longer crying out for help

The finch continues, it sings as it dances

Until it freezes completely, imminent danger quickly advances

Its muscles tensed, it sensed imminent doom

Darting quickly, it jumped into its hole, it feared of being consumed

Crashing through the foliage, descending with wings raised

A low rumble resonating, a terror of the skies enters the fray

Landing upon the ground, the beast whiffed at the scents

Keeping their distance, watching afar, the forest critters hid for defense

Looking out from its nest, the finch peered out the hole

Trying to assess the new threat, this was its one pure goal

Seeing the beaty of this beast, trying to be quiet, the finch took a step

Hearing the lightest of sounds, the beast craned around, the head atop its neck

The finch wanted to see the new guest, to look out its hole it risked

Hearing the little bird hopping, the creature turned and stared like a basilisk

Daring not to even breathe, the finch stayed so still its heart started to strain

Trying to keep composure, fear stricken, this beast was in pain

Losing interest, the newfound threat turned away

Collapsing in its nest, the songbird fell, living to fight another day

Looking around, sniffing the air, it scanned every stone

Finding the target, it put its snout to the babe, the being that was all alone

The forest continued to watch; every creature stared

The dragon let out a hot breath, of steamy, warmth-filled air

The infant coughed and kicked and whined

The forest looked on with dread, fearing that soon the dragon would dine

Touching its snout to the babe, the dragon checked its heat

The forest looked on, looking at the hominid’s soft, squishy, pink meat

Every creature thought that the dragon would bring the babe harm

Yet, what happened next surprised them all, the beast started to transform

Its bones reproportioned, its membranes became small webbings in its hands

A change of skin tone, modest clothing, a beautiful woman now there, she did stand

Blonde hair with streaks of red, a white gown with purple trim

She bent down and scooped up the babe, her problems started to begin

Holding it softly, the babe started to whine

She shushed it tenderly, disturbing the forest no more; her “Shhh” in a trine

Trying to find a solution to carry the babe, her mind was in a fog

Then struck by inspiration, she made her way over towards a log

Picking up a stone, she jabbed at it and carved out a hole

To fly with precious cargo safely, that was her main goal

Dariglac lived in the mountains, his wisdom came from years of old

She covered the babe in a moss blanket, protecting it from the cold

Weighing the babe down, she transformed yet again

Weighed down with a moss blanket, she secured the babe in her makeshift basket

Struggling to fly, she held tight, making sure it was not the babe’s makeshift casket

She began to fly up over the treetops, then she flew down the slopes

Not one of fall so easily, she flew upwards towards the sky, lifting her hopes

Once up high the trade winds did the work for her, she focused on maintaining her balance

Holding onto the log tightly, she kept a good grip with her talons

She’s been tested in the cold, so to her it was nothing

However, her passenger wasn’t as resistant, the cold was rather something

She didn’t have the luxury to enjoy a mountain viewing flight

So, she roared out to her friend, hoping he’d hear her plight

A draconian man walked out from an ice made cave

Practically wearing nothing, you’d call it bold not brave

Grumbling at what she brought along with her again

He knew that things were never boring with her as his friend

When she landed, she passed onto him the trunk

She landed right next to him, breaking the silence of a monk

Transforming yet again, they began to converse

He told her of illusionary magic, some used as weaponry, other times as a curse

After squabbling for a bit, did he let her inside

Walking into the cavern, ice shelves closed, beneath the mountain they hid inside

Dariglac asked if the babe was male or female

If it were a dragon, Aribella had yet to check beneath its tail

Worried about starvation, she asked if he had milk to drink

Rummaging through his mind for resources, Dariglac did start to think

Remembering a delicious animal in the mountains that would sing its note

Aribella asked him if he had a mother goat

Commenting on her human form, Dariglac teased her out loud

“Why don’t you feed it yourself? Your human form is more than well endowed.”

More annoyed than angry, she wasn’t about to have a bout of fits over a battle of wits

Still, she was still upset that he had gone and made a comment about her tits

She had soft smooth skin, and a figure carved out of porcelain or enamel

She retorted to him, “Hey! We’re magic not mammals.”

From flight bladders to magic storage and aesthetic prosthetics, You get the rest

She told him to go fetch a nanny and stop pestering her about her breast

He told her to bathe the babe, removing it of any scent

She knew the danger he didn’t have to explain, she already knew what he meant

When he left the cave, she felt him jump off into the distance

Turning her attention to make a bath, she moved with such persistence

Testing the water with her elbow, she was disgruntled a bit by her look

She wanted to bathe the babe, not boil it to have it cooked

Carefully, she scraped some ice off the walls

Dariglac’s entire home was ice beneath the mountain, icy cold halls

Unwrapping the babe for its bath, discovering its gender is what she did see

Dodging quickly, she covered the babe up, narrowly avoiding a stream of pee

Adding flower petals to his bath, she did so to remove his smell

Chrysanthemum and Jasmine would always do well, she’s done it before, she could tell

Bathing him she shushed his cries, as he was cloaked in a water

She made sure that it was comfortably warm, not too cold, nor hotter

Dunking him in, she washed his head along with his face

Pulling him out quickly, she dried him off, then made sure he was in a warm place

Heating rocks and a soft, warm, fur coat is what kept him warm

She decided to make Dariglac coffee, as having uninvited guest over was not the norm

Crushing the beans, she heard him re-enter with the sound of a bleating mom

Fetching the goat was an easy task, for he had not been gone or long

Milking the goat, they boiled the secretions in a pot and started to chat

She sanitized a skin over fire, before pouring milk into it from the vat

They talked about clutches, eggs, hatchling, and fertility years

Each had their own stories, including their own set of fears

Dariglac doesn’t want to pay taxes, or just having to pay money to exist

After having helped raise her sister’s, Nezera’s, brood to be free was Aribella’s wish

Poking a hole into the skin did the babe start to latch

Talking about where to go from there, new plans did start to hatch

In the end, a familiar spice scent would take them to a trading port nearby, is what she dread

He would be flying as she carried, they were “Off to Kingdred’s.”

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Pleased to meet You. If You liked this poetic story, then maybe You'll like the story that it's based off of. Please, enjoy.