The Dragon And The Pony 2 The Adventure of Parenthood

With a little purr, barely noticeable outside of our bedroom, I let Fluffies fine ears know that I had made myself comfortable in our bed, and, as she already knew, had our sweet little Fiery sleeping on my back.

When she had left, Fluffy had pretended that she was really busy with all this mother stuff, and therefore, didn’t have the time to cuddle right now. Well, she was making a mistake if she thought she could get away with that.

I had started to build a nest out of our bedding shortly after she left the bedroom to do whatever it was that she wanted to do. And now that it was finished, I had placed myself and her daughter in it’s center. The trap had been set.

And of course, it didn’t take long for an ocher colored head to peak around the corner, checking on what the purring meant.

When I heard the lightly clipedi-clop that announced her approach, I had closed my eyes, doing my best to look as innocent as possible. I only slightly intensified my purring, knowing that it would lure her closer. She responded with a half reproachful, half pleased, growl. She knew exactly what I had done, though unfortunately for her, she couldn’t resist. My mischievous plan had been crafted to exploit not one, but two of her weaknesses.

Slowly, she entered the room and came closer to my trap. I waited until she was almost able to touch me before I shifted my wings, allowing her a good view of our sleeping daughter and how she had peacefully curled up on my back. She was a little heap of adorability.

And with that, the trap was sprung!

Her daughter, the nest, and my warm body, were too much for my fluffy pegasus to not be enticed to jump onto my back and start nesting. With a little flap of her wings, she was on my back, and with a little bit of shifting to find the most comfortable position, she was ready. Triumphantly, I stretched out a bit more and enjoyed the warmth of Fluffies chest fluff, once Fluffy laid down to nest on Fiery.

Being a dad had its advantages.

“Lousy, cuddling tricks,” Fluffy accused me while she placed her head on my neck, rubbing her nose against it.

“I learned from the best,” I agreed. “And your daughter supports my actions, as you can hear.”

From below Fluffies chest fluff, a soft little purr could be heard. It wasn’t too loud since Fiery was still sleeping, but it was enough to show her approval.

“I think it is fair to say this is family time at its best,” I added.

“More so,” Fluffy playfully licked over my neck, “when you clean the kitchen later instead of me, since this was your trap.”

“Wait a mom…”

Fluffy purred seductively.

“But…”

“You really want me to get up again now?” She stroked her wings across the tops of mine.

I growled silently in defeat and got a kiss on my neck. “That’s my Big Softy.”

*

Well, it was mostly me who did the cleaning in our lair anyway, so trading a few hours of cuddling for washing the dishes wasn’t that bad. And, I had a little helper, though, she was more or less only there for moral support, but she did a good job at that. Everything feels more important when your little girl watches you with full attention, like you are doing the most important thing in the world.

Fiery had chosen the worktop next to the sink as her spot to watch me from. She had used me as a ramp -something that was very uncomfortable for Fluffy most of the times seeing as she doesn’t have scales- since she couldn’t fly yet, and climbed up my back until she was able to jump onto the countertop. Once there, she had stood up, like she always did when she watched mom and dad do something. She looked a bit like one of those meerkats when she did that.

It was quite cute. Even if I just placed a cup in the dish holder, her blue eyes would follow my claw, and she would even move to inspect the dish holder closer. She was acting like doing the dishes was a skill she would really need to help her survive. I know that it was just her instincts telling her to do this, but that didn’t make it any less cute. And I was sure, her mom would very much approve of her learning how to do the dishes. Fluffy and housework, for some reason, didn’t work well together.

For now, however, Fiery was more of a saboteur. I had to replace the water in the sink after Fiery thought the hot water was a nice bubble bath and had jumped happily into it. It had been sabotage seeing as I couldn’t convince myself to remove her from the sink given how happy she looked, along with the squeaky noises of pleasure she made while splashing the water.

Oh yeah, I should probably mention that we found out that Fiery was fireproof in both her forms, so the nearly boiling water was more of a pleasure than a threat to her. I can remember the moment I found that out quite clearly. One moment I was boiling water to make some rice, and the next moment, Fiery had jumped into the pot, purring while making herself comfortable. I had been scared for a second, but luckily, her mom hadn’t seen it.

Anyway, if there is one thing that Fiery likes more than a hot bath, it’s getting dried by her dad and his flame breath. So eventually, I lifted her up from the bath and used it on her. I could see that she tried to spit fire at me too during the process, so there was hope she could breathe flames later too. Even though that meant we would soon have to teach her that her mom wasn’t fireproof most of the time.

Of course, this was not the only thing Fiery did to hinder me at washing the dishes, though, she had good intentions. Every now and then, she would grab a random item within her reach and toss it into the sink, helping daddy in her opinion.

To be fair, a few things she threw into the sink actually belonged there.

She was too adorable to be scolded though, so I improvised and just rubbed my snout on her head whenever she picked a right item, teaching her what was right and what was wrong that way.

Near the end of the work, she rarely threw the clean dishes back in the sink anymore.

We proceeded that way, till a little while later, all was finished, and it was time for her reward for being a good girl. So I purred and cuddled her a moment with my head, before I bit her short orange mane with my lips, lifted her up, and carried her over to the fridge.

Just to let you know, in the few month since her birth, Fiery had grown a beautiful white coat that complimented the shiny gloss of her azure blue scales, her tail had grown some bushy hair at its end, making it look like a tuft, and to top it off, she had started to grow an orange mane around her whole neck. So she naturally had a very practical ‘carry me around’ holder. Though I was getting suspicious that she would occasionally do her best to look cute in an attempt to get a free lift sometimes.

Of course, after I found out I could carry her around that way, I tried it with Fluffy too, but sadly, it only caused her pain. Though it is okay to lift her by the tail, at least it doesn’t cause her pain, unfortunately, she isn’t much of a fan. I really wonder why, since it allows me a very good view of her special places.

Anyhow, when Fiery and I arrived at the fridge, I placed her back on the ground and fetched an orange from it for her. Curious as she was, she stood up and stretched out her tiny claws for the orange fruit, eagerly taking it from me. She turned it around several times and sniffed at it before she happily decided it is something to cuddle with.

Yeah, sometimes her baby instincts fail at determining things. Well, at least it was cuddling and not destroy this time, like with an apple. I don’t know why, but she hates apples. The first time I had given her one, her immediate reaction was what I would have expected towards a rabbit or an actual threat, she started to hiss, and loudly at that. It wasn't long after that that she charged forward to attack the fruit. She wrapped herself around the apple, doing her best to compress it with her body, all while ripping into it with her claws and hind hooves, reminding me of how a cat would attack a toy.

The little apple didn’t stand a chance. In mere second, the apple was reduced to nothing more than applesauce and the occasional pieces that had managed to escape her wrath by being thrown about during her assault. The pieces did not escape her wrath fully though, as they had been burned seeing as Fiery had turned into her kirin form while she killed the apple.

Anyway, back to the orange.

“Fiery, this is something to eat,” I explained to her, but she just looked up, continuing to cuddle with the orange. “You shall eat it, not cuddle it.”

She squeaked happily.

“Eat, e-a-t,” I repeated but with the same effect.

“Alright,” I stretched out my claw, requesting the fruit back. “If you are not hungry, the orange goes back to the fridge.”

And with that, we got straight into her second favorite reaction, right behind cuddling things that are not supposed to be cuddled, ‘declaring stuff hers’. Fiery turned her back to me to ‘hide’ the orange, cause when I can’t see it, I am no longer aware it exists… baby logic.

Well, at least that is a reaction I can understand, ‘mine’ is something all dragons use. In my case, that reaction was mostly reserved for Fiery’s mom around that time, but when it came to Fiery, I was willing to share. A bit.

“Come on, give the orange back to daddy.”

She refused, and quickly jumped around the fridge in her very special way of moving around. Instead of walking normally on all four, like she was supposed to do, she kind of jumped, using each pair of legs together which each step. It looks adorable, but also makes her little body look like an accordion, shrinking and then extending out again which each little jump, more so with the difficulty of holding the orange during the movement.

Heh, I called her little accordion sometimes during that period of her development.

Be it as it may, she placed the fruit between the wall and the fridge, sure I wouldn’t find it there. And I was so generous to pretend it was so, I could always come back later to gather the forgotten fruit. So instead of taking her treasure away from her, I moved back to the bedroom, knowing she would follow me, and, of course, she did.

*

Well, I would like to add here that her reaction can be ‘eat it’ too when it is totally wrong. Straight to the point, I gave her a little stone once… Oh boy, I am so happy Fluffy hadn’t seen that. It wasn’t a gem, just an ordinary stone, something to cuddle with! And Fiery ate it.

I am so glad that she didn’t do the same thing with the fabric stone my dad gave her. Funny story by the way, Fluffy wanted Fiery to have a doll, some kind of pony cuddle doll, while I, of course, wanted her to have her own stone. I remember how happy I was with the stone my mother gave me when I hatched, it was a grey and sharp-edged, an awesome gift! Though, a doll? Come on! Anyway, so after a long discussion, Fluffy agreed that I would get to choose what we lay in her cradle for her to cuddle with, as long it was made out of fabric and not scary. I really had a hard time coming up with something, everything you can buy that was made out of fabric for children were dolls of cute animals or ponies, as long as you don’t want your child to cuddle with a kitchen towel that is.

It was my dad who saved the day. Not long after I had told him about the problem, he came back with a stone, made out of fabric, fireproof and scratch resistant. The best gift for Fiery ever! Fluffy did not approve of it, for some strange pony reasons, but she had no choice. So Fiery now had a medium, orange, fabric stone in her cradle which she likes a lot.

At least her obvious liking for her own little stone calmed down Fluffies annoyance about it. And when Fiery grew a little more, she would carry it around, wrapped in her tail, most of the day, very much to my liking.