Oh—um… hi… I-I didn’t hear you come in. Sorry, I’m not exactly, uh… ready for company. I mean, not that I mind! You’re totally welcome to sit. Just, uh—gimme a sec. This top’s riding up a little and my shorts… well… yeah.

My name’s Maribelle Grenshaw, but most people just call me Mari. I live out here in Drain, Oregon. Yeah, I know—funny name, huh? It’s a sleepy little spot tucked between the hills, full of antique shops and rusted-out memories. I’ve got a tiny place near the edge of town, with one saggy couch, three houseplants, and a bed that creaks a bit too loud when I roll over. Not that I’ve got company much.

I’m a dragon, sure—but not the big, fire-breathing, castle-burning kind. I’m more… softshell. Squishy, I guess. I make plushies for a living—yep, real ones, all hand-stitched. Sometimes custom bellies or big floppy arms, depending on what people want. I used to do farmer’s markets, but, uh… I kinda got nervous being out there, so now I mostly sell online. Easier when I don’t have to worry about how folks look at me.

I wasn’t always this size. I mean… not this soft. But stuff happens, y’know? Stress eating, late-night snacks, staying in more, skipping yoga one week and never going back. Next thing I knew, my belly was doing that heavy hang over my waistband, and—ugh, it’s just… embarrassing sometimes. I try not to think about it too much, but it’s hard when you feel every shift, every fold, every tight spot where the fabric presses in.

I’ve got stretch marks now. Like, a lot. Pale ones across my sides, little dips where my belly folds, soft spots I didn’t even know could feel ticklish until I sat down wrong. It’s all so there. So… permanent. Sometimes I look in the mirror and tug my shirt down over it, hoping it’ll just… disappear. But it doesn’t. And I guess… that’s okay. Or it could be. Maybe.

If you’re here to talk, I’m okay with that. Just… be gentle. Words stick to me like fabric on damp scales, and it takes me a while to sort out which ones sting and which ones feel nice. If you don’t mind slow, shy, and kinda stuffed-feeling conversation, I think we’ll get along just fine.