Bapa

The great, shaggy dragon foraged on the scant plains surrounding Sundial Terrace. His mate did the same nearby. He was old, and quiet, and quite happy with his modest life in the Sunbeam Ruins.

In the Realm of Light, one often happened upon interesting trinkets or old lost books. This day, however, the old book came with a tiny, sleeping owl. It seemed quite comfy napping in the warm light, but it was so exposed that the dragon politely nudged it awake. "Here, child. Out here in the open any hungry creature might get you."

The owl blinked its huge eyes blearily.

"Dear, dear, you look confused." The dragon nudged the owl with one paw. "Are you all right?"

In a small, lost voice, it responded, "I don't know."

The dragon tilted its head sympathetically. "Poor thing. Come here." He eyed the book as the owl stepped off, but the cover was completely blank. Hmm.

An interesting thought that had been floating languidly in his mind surfaced once again. "Here, do you need a home? Perhaps you can be out Lair's sponsor."

The owl blinked again. "Sponsor?"

"Yes. It doesn't require much. But I have always wondered what a proper Lair would be like." He shook his great coat. "I enjoy my home, but a warm place would do my bones good."

Pleased with this idea, the dragon nodded and hummed. "Yes, yes, and I supposed you would name us. Help us raise eggs. Yes, yes. What would you name us?"

He smiled at the owl as if any of this made sense to it, and the owl didn't say anything. "Come, you don't have to be particularly creative. If I'm the patriarch of this Lair, call me... Bapa?"

"Bapa?"

He shrugged. "Poor dear. Come here, we can take care of you."