The woolly mammoth followed the winding mountain trail one slow step after another. In spite of her enormous bulk, each step was soft and quiet, cushioned by the fresh blanket of snow. She let out a deep grunt when the trail became steeper, and the work harder.
“Easy girl,” Brock called from his warm, furry perch on the mammoth’s shoulders. To Brock, the mammoth was not just way a avoid walking, she was his pet and friend. Every day since she was a baby, he was the one who cared for her, bringing her food and water. Brock was also the one who gave her the name, Luna.
The gentle giant carried a second passenger. Sitting behind Brock, was his brother, Mace. Both boys were eager to get away from the boredom of village live. An adventure in the mountains was a welcome distraction.
Rounding a bend in the trail, Luna came to a halt. A winter storm had uprooted a sizable tree, and left it lying across the trail.
“Push Luna, push!” Brock ordered, while giving the mammoth a nudge with his heel.
As Luna had been trained, she hooked the tree trunk with her massive tusk and plowed forward. Branches cracked and snapped as she forced the tree off the trail.
“Good job Luna,” Brock praised her with a pat on the top of her head.
Two years earlier, Brock learned to power of the mammoth’s tusks. It only took one time, when Brock was being careless. Luna turned her head, and a heavy tusk caught Brock square in the back. The force of the blow sent Brock flying. He landed ten feet away, gasping for breath.
Brock knew it was just an accident when he found himself gently cradled in Luna’s powerful trunk. It was her way of saying, “I’m sorry.”
That taught Brock and important lesson, his pet didn’t know her own strength.
Another mile up the trail, Brock brought the mammoth to a stop.
“Luna, Halt!” he called with a stern voice.
Mace and Brock dropped down to the ground.
“This way,” Brock left Luna to rest and forage while he and Mace continued on foot. Together, the boys entered a tall pine forest. Under the canopy of snow-cover branches, the forest was dimly lit, and a little spooky.
A short hike through the trees brought the brothers to the edge of Black Canyon. A layer of snow brightened the dark rock walls of the narrow valley. The boys scanned the area until they found what they were looking for.
“There it is,” Brock pointed to an opening on the far side of the valley. In the valley wall, was the opening of a cave. Icicles hung from the top of the cave, like teeth of a giant beast. This was the home of Aurora the dragon.
The people of Brock’s village feared the winged creature, with its dark scales, sharp claws, and fiery breath. However, the villagers learned to give the dragon its space, and the dragon returned the favor, leaving the people alone.
Over the last month, rumors spread that Aurora had either left the area, or had died. She had not been seen in weeks. Now, Brock and Mace were on a mission to find out for themselves.
The boys sat at the edge of the forest, watching the cave. As far as they could see, nothing moved in the entire valley. After a while they became restless and fidgety.
“Let’s go,” said Brock. “But keep a look out.”
With Brock leading the way, the brothers snuck across to the far side of the valley. With no sign of the dragon, they inched their way closer to the cave. Every few steps, they stopped to listen for danger.
Brock paused, and studied the cave entrance. He reasoned that a full-grown dragon would have left track in the snow, and knocked down the thick icicles as it entered and left the cave.
“There is no dragon here,” said Brock, as he boldly approached the cave. Trusting his brother, Mace followed.
Together, the boys peer inside, but only saw blackness since their eyes had been focused on the bright white snow outside.
As quietly as he could, Brock stepped in the cave. Mace stuck so close to his brother that there was not an inch of space between them. Finally, their eyes adjusted to the dim light inside.
Brock snuck deeper into the cave a few steps at a time. Whenever he stopped, Mace bumped into his back. All was silent until the sound of a faint cry told them something else was in the cave. The brothers froze where they stood.
“What was that?” Mace whispered.
“Shush,” Brock was angry that Mace had spoken.
After a long tense moment, the cry rose up again. It sounded to Brock like the whining of a young puppy. It was certainly not the roar of a full-grown dragon. He motioned with his hand the direction that the sound came from.
Brock tiptoed toward the cry until his eye caught something moving. A nest, like a bird would make, but much larger, sat on the floor of the cave. It appeared to be made of grass and wild ferns. Lying in the nest, a small creature lifted its head. Two sad, dark eyes gazed at the boys.
“It’s a baby dragon!” Brock could no longer keep quiet.
The brothers, not knowing what to expect, kept a safe distance. They waited to see what the baby would do. It let out another soft whimper, but did not move.
“It looks weak,” Mace said.
“You’re right. Aurora must have given birth, and then disappeared, leaving her baby behind,” said Brock
“It will die if it doesn’t have a mother to care for it,” Mace added.
Brock thought for a moment, as he looked down on the helpless creature. “We can’t just leave it here to die.”
“Yes, but father will not be happy if we bring a live dragon home,” Mace said.
“But, look how small it is. It’s no bigger than a cat. I’m sure he won’t be any trouble,” Brock tried to sound convincing.
“Do you think we could keep a dragon as a pet?”, Mace was still not sure.
“We tamed Luna. If we can train a big old mammoth, we can tame a baby dragon. Just think, we will be the only ones with a real live dragon,” said Brock.
“With our own pet dragon, we will be the talk of the whole countryside. Let’s do it,” Mace said with a grin.
Brock knelt down and cautiously reached out to touch the baby dragon.
“Be careful,” Mace warned.
… To be continued.