Fruitpunch

Back at his workplace, Sunbeam found himself paw-deep in trouble. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had to keep an eye on the patient while working on brewing them a cure before – it was that the patient usually wasn’t trying to poke their muzzle in his cauldron. Not this hatchling.

“What’s that”, it chirped for what seemed like the twentieth time so far, sticking its head out from between the tufts of Sunbeam’s fur in eager interest, having fully abandoned its cot for the excitement of the worktable – something the seasoned healer was willing to tolerate for the time being, even if it slowed things down a bit.

“Blood acorn juice”, Sunbeam replied, picking words simple enough for a child. “It’s good for you.”

He watched the hatchling stare intently at his paws as he worked, cracking the acorns and draining them of their nectar, enchanted by the process of turning a basket of nuts into a bowl of liquid. The hatchling itself was a young Coatl, tiny and vibrant in hue, and its energetic nature along with the brightness of its plumage had spoken of health from far away; but on further inspection it had been easy to see there was something not quite right with the child’s belly. It was translucent, somehow almost membranous looking, yet nothing else wrong could be found with it, and it had stumped both the hatchling’s caretakers and healer alike. Sunbeam hadn’t seen anything like it so far.

Reflecting on his work, Sunbeam turned to reach for a vial. “What’s that”, the hatchling asked again, this time looking at a bowl’s worth of colouful dust. “Crushed beetles”, Sunbeam said, and had to hide his smile when the hatchling crunched its face up in disgust. He thought perhaps that would be the whole of it for a while, but he had barely glanced upwards when-

“Ooh, what’s that”, came a drawn-out hum of anticipation, like a tightly-pulled string. The tawny ball of feathers and curiosity had managed to pull itself directly on the table, gawking at what Sunbeam had at first thought was the line of vials next to the cauldron but quickly realised was the cauldron itself when the hatchling nearly toppled in it.

It all happened quite fast after that. Dropping everything, Sunbeam had grappled and pulled the hatchling away before he could even fully comprehend the danger it was in. The hatchling, startled and scared by the sudden action, had started crying – and the vial of coralclimber toxin, broken on the floor, had begun smoking. Disaster. It must have been written on his face, because the hatchling squeaked, jumped out of Sunbeam’s embrace and then – to his horror – directly into the bubbling cauldron.

* * *
Sunbeam sighed, unsure how to explain to the other dragon. His bandaged paws hurt. “Being of Fire flight, the hatchling is fine. But after what I saw”, he started, “I do not believe we have a sickness on our hands. His belly, despite pale, seems to be fine. Instead”, he said, coming to stand over the cot of the peacefully sleeping hatchling, “there appears to be a see-through pouch attached to it.”
The Coatl, as if hearing him, turned around a little in its sleep, exposing a translucent membrane filled with – currently – the bright greenish-golden hues of the healing potion within.