The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of the forest, painting the ground with patches of gold and green. Rita, a small and cautious rabbit, hopped along a well-worn trail. Her soft fur caught the light as her ears twitched constantly, picking up every rustle, hum, and chirp around her. This was her routine—a careful, quiet search for food, her senses finely tuned to the ever-present dangers of the forest.
She paused by a patch of clover near a fallen log, sniffing it with a quick, nervous motion. Satisfied, Rita nibbled at the leaves with tiny, precise bites. She was always alert, always ready to flee at the first sign of trouble.
But then, trouble came in a way she had never imagined.
A faint sound reached her ears—the scrape of something heavy moving across the forest floor. Rita froze, her ears swiveling toward the noise. It came again, louder this time, accompanied by the crackle of branches. Slowly, cautiously, she turned her head.
And she saw it.
A massive creature emerged from the shadows, its red scales gleaming like molten metal in the dappled sunlight. It walked with an awkward, almost hesitant gait, its wings trailing behind it. Its golden eyes, glowing with an otherworldly intensity, locked onto Rita. For a moment, neither of them moved.
Rita's instincts screamed at her to run, but her legs refused to obey. Her heart thundered in her chest. She had never seen anything like this creature. It was too big, too strange—too overwhelming.
The creature tilted its head and took a slow step forward, sniffing the air.
"P-please!" Rita stammered, her voice high and trembling. "Please don't eat me!"
The dragon stopped, blinking in confusion. It stared at her, its gaze curious but unthreatening. After a long pause, it spoke, its deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Eat… you?"
"Yes!" Rita cried, her tiny frame trembling. "You're big, and you have claws and teeth. You're a predator, aren't you? And I'm… I'm prey. That's what predators do—they eat creatures like me!"
The dragon tilted its head again, processing her words. "Predator? Prey?" It repeated the unfamiliar terms as though tasting them for the first time.
Rita nodded frantically. "Yes! I am small and weak, and you are… you are powerful. That's how the world works. Please, do not hurt me!"
The dragon furrowed its brow, stepping closer. "Why… do I hurt you?" it asked, its voice tinged with genuine confusion.
Rita blinked. "B-because that's what predators do! You need food to live, don't you?"
The dragon paused, its expression blank. "Food…" it murmured, as if testing the word. Then it perked up slightly, sniffing at her again. "You're food?"
"No!" Rita yelped, scrambling backward. "I mean, yes, but not for you!"
The dragon frowned, sitting back on its haunches with a puzzled expression. "But… you smell different from the green stuff I chewed on earlier."
Rita paused, staring at it. "Wait. You mean… grass?"
The dragon nodded eagerly. "Grass! That's what it's called? It tasted… strange."
"You ate grass?" Rita asked, her suspicion giving way to incredulity.
"I didn't know what else to eat," the dragon admitted, its wings drooping slightly. "It was… there."
Rita's ears twitched as she studied the creature. "Huh. So… you really don't know anything, do you?"
The dragon brightened, its golden eyes hopeful. "No. But you do! Will you tell me?"
Before Rita could respond, a sudden, unnatural stillness fell over the forest. The air grew heavy, and her ears shot up. The dragon blinked, tilting its head.
"Wait," Rita whispered, trembling. "Do you feel that?"
"Feel… what?" the dragon asked, its voice soft with curiosity.
From the shadows, a shape began to shift—dark, hulking, and unnaturally fast. Glowing eyes pierced the gloom, and a guttural snarl echoed through the trees.
"That!" Rita hissed, darting closer to the dragon. "It's danger!"
The dragon narrowed its eyes, stepping protectively in front of Rita. "Danger," it repeated, as though trying to make sense of the word. Its wings flared awkwardly. "Oh… I don't like danger."
"Then do something!" Rita cried.
"Like… what?" the dragon asked, uncertainty flickering in its voice.
Before Rita could answer, the shadow lunged. The dragon roared—loud, clumsy, and determined—and met the attack head-on. The shadow figure, all claws and fangs, struck with terrifying speed, slashing at the dragon's side. Rita darted into the underbrush, her heart pounding as she watched the fight.
The dragon struggled, its movements awkward and inexperienced, but its resolve was fierce. Claws clashed against claws, and the air crackled with energy. The shadow circled, lunging again and again, driving the dragon back.
Rita's chest tightened as she watched. She should run. This was her chance. But she couldn't leave the dragon—not after it had stepped in to protect her. She grabbed a rock in her paws, her heart pounding.
Just as the shadow prepared to strike again, the dragon let out a deafening scream. A searing heat rose from its chest, and with a mighty roar, it unleashed a torrent of fire. The flames engulfed the shadow, forcing it to retreat with a shriek. It vanished into the darkness, leaving the forest eerily quiet.
Rita emerged from her hiding spot, clutching the rock. She stared at the dragon, who stood panting, smoke curling from its mouth. Slowly, the dragon turned to look at her.
"You… you're not bad," Rita said, her voice soft with wonder. She dropped the rock and hopped closer. "By the way, my name is Rita. Rita the rabbit. What's yours?"
The dragon blinked, its golden eyes flickering with warmth. "Name?" it murmured. "I… I think it's Ember."
Rita smiled faintly. "Well, Ember… I guess I owe you one."
Ember tilted its head, a flicker of pride in its gaze. "Owe me?"
"Never mind," Rita said with a small laugh. For the first time, she felt safe in the presence of a predator.
And for the first time, Ember felt a spark of purpose in a world it was only just beginning to understand.