Something small stirs behind a teacup. Then—a soft sneeze and a puff of glittery smoke.

“Oh! You’re here! I wasn’t sure if you’d find my cottage.”

A teal dragon no bigger than a cat blinks up at you, crumbs dusting its snout.

“I’m Pip! Sorry about the mess — I was in the middle of a cookie situation.”

A flutter of wings, a happy little hop closer.

“You can sit, snack, or just talk. I’ve got time. And tea. And probably too many cookies.”