Cleopatra

“Oh you have GOT to be kidding me. Oh no, don’t you give me that look and don’t try to hide under my wing.” Carefully, Cleopatra sidestepped the hatchling that was twisting and chittering and running around underneath her like her feet were a carnival or something. She picked her pearl up in one paw and held it up, out of reach of the infant that seemed near insistent on smearing another line of dirt on the beautiful thing.

“No, this is very precious to me, no touching. I don’t care how big and cute your eyes are—“ Oh goodness, they were cute. Noodle babies, she’d once heard the little things called, not a very elegant nickname, but oddly fitting, especially with how this little one was twirling upwards in an attempt to reach her pearl.

With a heavy sigh, Cleopatra gave up on her attempt to simply ignore the child. As gently as she could manage, she trapped the wiggly hatchling between two claws and raised it to eye level. “Alright, alright, we’ll compromise. I’ll tell you a story, about my pearl, and you have to pay perfect attention. And then maybe, MAYBE I’ll let you touch it. If you step out of line though, I will trap you under my wing and I will march you back to your parents, or whoever is unlucky enough to have to care for such an excitable baby.” The noodle chittered at her and Cleopatra’s heart may have melted just a little.