Tears were running down Kegger's face from the fierce hint of a fume that wafted through the kitchen. As soon as she could catch her breath, she looked accusingly at both of the little creatures.
"Did one of you make a 'toot'?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. Then, to herself, "I certainly hope that wasn't from one of you two, or I shall need to keep you in the stables."
She knealt down by the washtub and began scrubbing the dragon's scaly hide. It gleamed like metal and seemed to be just as hard. The little winglets would have to grow quite a bit before this young one could fly, but those teeth looked ready to use.
"What do baby dragons like to eat, little one? Maybe you and little 'Elmo' here would like to visit our chickens, eh? Or maybe you'd rather wander in my vegetable garden? For all I know, you like to eat rocks and dirt, he heh heh? Oops! Got a little soap in your eye? Let's rinse that out. There. Is that better? Aren't you the cutest little ... thing?"
Unintentionally, Mrs. Kegger was completely ignoring Elmo ...
