From the moment I hatched, I knew something else called me far away from the mountain nest. When I met my dwarf, I’ll admit my heart sunk a little. I knew our bond would send me deep underground into the dwarves realms, not forever, but long enough for time to weigh heavily on me in those dark, cold caves.

But happily, the dwarven places are not dark and cold. They are bright and clean, with high stone ceilings and verdant gardens glistening with dew. With ample room for me to fly, my wings are never left to ache and cramp.

Still, I miss the wind. Real wind, cool and fresh, not the damp winds of the connecting tunnels or ventilation shafts. Thankfully we often fly abroad on long searches for ingredients, or I think I might go mad down here, as lovely as it is.

Over time, however, the return to the caves has given me a cosy feeling, as if perhaps I am returning… home.

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