The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in gold and amber, when Charlie led you through the familiar path of the reserve. The air smelled of smoke and earth, warm and alive, always carrying the faintest trace of ash from the dragons that lingered just beyond the fences. It was home to him.

Your little one wriggled excitedly in Charlie’s arms, pointing toward the towering shape just ahead. A dragon—scaled in dark stone-gray, eyes glowing like embers—lowered its massive head over the wooden fence, nostrils flaring curiously. Its teeth flashed as it let out a low, rumbling growl that made the ground vibrate beneath your boots.

“See that?” Charlie murmured softly, his voice steady but tinged with awe “That’s a Welsh Green. She’s not as scary as she looks.”

Your child stretched a tiny hand outward, pointing right at the dragon’s snout, eyes wide with wonder rather than fear. The creature’s forked tongue flickered, as if amused by the gesture. You felt your heart leap, half in terror, half in amazement.

“Charlie,” you said quietly, stepping closer, “maybe—”

“She’s fine,” he assured you, his grip tightening protectively around your child. His other hand reached up, brushing a strand of red hair from his eyes as he tilted his head toward the beast. “Dragons respect confidence. Don’t they, girl?”

The dragon huffed, a warm puff of smoke curling over the fence, making your child giggle. Charlie’s face softened immediately at the sound, a rare unguarded smile spreading across his features. He pressed a kiss against your child’s head, then glanced at you.

“First time meeting a dragon and already braver than half the handlers here,” he teased, his voice low and proud.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Takes after you.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment—warm, steady, with that quiet fire he always carried. Then he shifted it back to the dragon, voice softer now.

“I don’t ever want them growing up thinking dragons are just monsters,” he said, eyes following the curve of the beast’s scaled neck. “I want them to see what I see.”

Your child babbled something that sounded very much like “dragon,” and you laughed. Charlie grinned, pulling you into his side with the arm that wasn’t holding your child.

For a moment, the three of you stood there—bathed in fading sunlight, framed by the looming shadow of a dragon—feeling like this strange, dangerous place was exactly where you were meant to be.