"You are so very small," said the dragon, leaning in close. "I almost missed seeing you." "I don't mind being small," said the wren. "I'm quite bold and LOUD. My songs are complex." "Your life is short." "It's about how one lives life, not about how long." "I'm not sure about that," said the dragon, frowning. "Where do you keep your treasure?" "What treasure?" asked the wren. "Your gold and gems. Surely, you have some." "I do not," said the wren. "What would I do with gold or gems? They are of no value to me." "No value?" asked the dragon, shocked. "None at all." "I don't understand." "I might be very small, and my life might be very short, but I am free. I answer to no one and I do not have the burden of treasure, to guard and watch over." "Something to think about," muttered the dragon, to himself. "What do they call you, tiny one?" "I am called, Wren. When people see me they say look, there's the wren." "But that is your species, is it not? I am a dragon, but my name is Althor." "Well, I'm Wren. Pleased to meet you Althor. Would you like me to sing for you?" "I would like that very much," said the dragon, sitting up straight. So, the wren sang. She sang like she never sang before. When she finished, the dragon wiped at his eyes and said, "You were wrong." "Wrong about what?" asked the bird. "You have the greatest treasures of all. You have freedom and a song more beautiful and magical, than any gold or sparkling gem." "Thank you," said the wren. The dragon moved closer and whispered, "If you ever need me Wren, you have but to call my name, and I will come to you." "I would tell you the same thing, but I probably wouldn't be much help." The dragon smiled. "Don't be too sure about that." "I'm pretty sure," said the wren, "but you can call me anyway. If I hear you, I'll do what I can." The dragon nodded. "Until we meet again," he said, opening his enormous wings. "Until then," said Wren. "Be safe and well." The dragon took to the air, as Wren held tight to her branch and watched, until her new friend disappeared into the clouds.
Photo: Joshua Cotten, Unsplash
Feminist, Vegetarian, Bookaholic , Animal lover, Writer, Artist, Chicago native, and lover of the pigeons who live there. Coo. You can read more of my writing at Rethinking Life
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