He let out the most satisfying roar of rage and leaped forward, landing exactly where I'd been sitting only a moment ago. If I hadn't been expecting it, I would have been slammed into a mountain of loose diamonds and emeralds, and my still-soft scales would have been bruised all over. But Jasper was the one who landed there instead, while I joyously pounced on his back and rubbed his snout in the pile of rocks.

"Children!" Our mother raised her head from her forefeet and let out a long-suffering snort that blew through the cave, sending more gold coins flying. "Some of us are trying to sleep after a long, hard hunt!"

"I would have helped you hunt," I said, jumping off Jasper. "If you'd let me come --"

"Your scales haven't hardened enough to withstand even a wolf's bite." Mother's great head sank back down toward her glittering blue-and-gold feet. "Let alone a bullet or a mage's spell," she added wearily. "In another thirty years, perhaps, when you're nearly grown and ready to fly . . ."

"I can't wait another thirty years!" I bellowed. My voice echoed around the cave, until Grandfather and both of my aunts were calling their own sleepy protests down the long tunnels of our home, but I ignored them. "I can't live cooped up in this mountain forever, going nowhere, doing nothing --"

"Jasper is using his quiet years to teach himself philosophy." Mother's voice no longer sounded weary; it grew cold and hard, like a diamond, as her neck stretched higher and higher above me, her giant golden eyes narrowing into dangerous slits focused solely on me, her disobedient daughter. "Other dragons have found their own passions in literature, history, or mathematics. Tell me, Aventurine: Have you managed to find your passion yet?"

I was almost starting to wish that I didn't have to take him home afterward for my family to eat. It would be much more satisfying to keep this human as a pet, to make hot chocolate for me any time I wanted.

He would be a hardworking pet, too, I could tell. As he stirred the hot chocolate, he kept on whispering to himself the whole time in that funny rhythmic chant, his whole body taut with concentration. I suppose I could have listened harder, to try to pick out his words, but really, when had I ever cared about anything that humans said? Besides, I was far too busy enjoying the smells from his pot. If I could have, I would have wrapped myself up in those steamy tendrils of scent and rolled around in them for hours. Hot chocolate. Talk about a treasure fit for a dragon!