As I stood at the mouth of Sweet Tooth's den, I clutched the wheelbarrow handle like it was the last thread holding my sanity together.
The faint warmth of the den seeped out, carrying with it a peculiar mix of fruity sweetness and, well... something less pleasant. My goggles fogged slightly as I adjusted them, muttering under my breath.
"Just a baby dragon," I reassured myself for the tenth time. "Baby. Small. Cute. Playful."
I peeked inside. The dim glow from enchanted crystals embedded in the stone walls illuminated the den's occupant—Sweet Tooth.
Name: Sweet Tooth
Age: 5 months
Gender: Male
Species: Draconis
Element: Wind
The name conjured an image of a chubby, cuddly dragon the size of a golden retriever. What I got instead was a crimson-scaled titan that could rival a construction crane. Its sleek tail, tipped with an innocent puff of white fur, thumped rhythmically on the ground, creating small tremors that rattled the wheelbarrow.
I froze mid-step. Sweet Tooth's golden eyes locked onto me with a lazy intensity, like a predator sizing up a very dumb snack.
This? THIS is a baby??
"Yup," I whispered. "This is how I die."
The dragon shifted, and its wings—oh god, its wings—unfurled briefly, brushing the cave ceiling like a tarp catching the wind. It yawned, displaying rows of dagger-like teeth before resting its head on its clawed forearms.
"Alright, Carl. First dragon. Just stick to the guide." I pulled out my notepad and read over the steps for the hundredth time.
Wear a mask. Check.
Smile if the dragon smiles. Easy enough.
Brace yourself if it rears back. Uh, sure.
I rolled the cart of fruits closer, plastering a grin on my face so wide my cheeks hurt. Sweet Tooth's nostrils flared, and his gaze followed the bounty like a kid spotting dessert. His tail wagged once, sending a gust of wind that nearly toppled me.
"Easy there, big guy," I said, steadying myself. "I've got all your favorites—dragonfruit, watermelon, pineapple. A buffet fit for a—"
Sweet Tooth's grin widened, revealing his gleaming teeth. My heart sank.
The guide didn't mention that dragons smile when they're planning chaos.
Sweet Tooth reared back. His chest puffed up, his scales shimmered, and the air vibrated ominously. I barely had time to register the noise before it happened.
A deafening raspberry echoed through the den. The force of it knocked me flat on my back, my mask doing little to shield me from the aftermath.
"What the—" I choked, my vision swimming. The smell hit me like a freight train of sulfur and rotting fruit. My limbs felt like jelly as I crawled for fresh air.
Sweet Tooth lowered his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The puff of fur on his tail wagged again, like he was proud of his... performance.
"Really?" I groaned, dragging myself upright. "I bring you a gourmet feast, and this is the thanks I get?"
The dragon tilted his head, a low rumble vibrating through his chest. Laughter. The overgrown toddler was laughing at me.
I rolled a watermelon toward him. He sniffed it, then snapped it up in one bite, crunching through the rind like it was candy. Juice dribbled down his chin as he wagged his tail, sending another gust of wind that nearly tipped me over.
"Alright," I said, brushing fruit pulp off my vest. "At least you have good taste. Let's get this over with before you gas me out again."
The feeding process was less like offering food to a pet and more like catering a banquet to a mischievous giant.
Sweet Tooth devoured the dragonfruit and pineapples with gusto, occasionally snorting plumes of wind that sent fruit rolling across the floor. I scrambled to keep up, dodging his swipes as he batted the wheelbarrow like a toy.
By the time I presented the last watermelon, I was drenched in sweat and smelled faintly of dragon burp. Sweet Tooth nuzzled the fruit, his tail wagging furiously. A faint hope stirred in my chest. Maybe I'd earned his trust.
Then his tail lashed out, knocking the watermelon straight into the cave wall. It exploded on impact, showering us both in sticky pink pulp.
Sweet Tooth froze, his eyes wide as he stared at the mess. Then, with a low rumble, he began to purr—a deep, resonant sound that filled the den. He licked the wall clean, his tongue leaving streaks of glistening stone behind.
"Unbelievable," I muttered, wiping watermelon juice from my goggles. "You're a food critic now?"
Sweet Tooth's head swung toward me, and for a moment, I thought I'd said the wrong thing. But instead of a tantrum, he nudged me gently with his snout, his warm breath ruffling my hair.
"You're welcome," I said, patting his scaled nose. "But next time, maybe skip the dramatics?"
He blinked slowly, a gesture that almost seemed apologetic. Almost.
With the feeding done, I turned my attention to cleanup duty. The guide hadn't been exaggerating—baby dragons were messy eaters.
The den floor was littered with fruit rinds, seeds, and sticky puddles of juice. I grabbed a broom and set to work, dodging Sweet Tooth's playful swipes as he tried to snatch the broom from my hands.
"You're not helping," I grumbled, swatting his claw away. He huffed, settling down to watch me with an expression that was entirely too smug for a five-month-old.
As I worked, I couldn't help but reflect on the absurdity of the situation. Five months ago, I'd been a freshly graduated zoologist with dreams of working in wildlife conservation. Now, I was babysitting a creature that could level a small town if he sneezed too hard.
And yet, despite the chaos, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Sweet Tooth might be a handful, but he was also a marvel—a living, breathing piece of mythology. Caring for him was messy, exhausting, and occasionally life-threatening, but it was also... rewarding.
I glanced at Sweet Tooth, who had dozed off in the corner, his tail twitching as he dreamed. A smile tugged at my lips.
"Sweet dreams, you overgrown menace," I whispered, gathering the last of the fruit scraps.
As I wheeled the cart back toward the den entrance, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. I paused, glancing over my shoulder. The den was silent, save for Sweet Tooth's rhythmic snores.
Still, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I turned back toward the entrance, my steps quickening.
As I emerged into the daylight, a shadow passed overhead. I looked up, my breath catching in my throat.
A pair of golden eyes stared down at me from the ridge above the den. They were identical to Sweet Tooth's, only larger. Much larger.
"Oh no," I whispered, my heart pounding. "Mom's home."