I knew we had our differences with them. I had been warned of their way of thinking, their abnormal lifestyles, and the dangers they presented. But now I realize I had underestimated just how dissimilar we really were.

Their winter sleep was short. Extremely short. So brief that it would be called napping if it was any shorter. It made me wonder if they went on with their daily lives at the same speed as they did with their sleep. Wasn’t it tiring?

I didn’t come to this conclusion quickly. Actually, at first, when they started showing up in my brand new cave, I could say I was offended. All I wanted was a nice, three-month-long sleep, an appropriate way to get through winter in this lair I had just moved in. And these tiny creatures found various ways to wake me up as if they knew it was one of the things I detested the most. It felt really personal, too, with their poking sticks and flying twigs bouncing off my scales.

Turns out it was all a misunderstanding, I found out, while watching a human sprawled on the ground. They weren’t aiming to interrupt my rest just for the sake of interrupting it. They merely had shorter periods of sleep, naps perhaps, thus didn’t understand the proper way of a winter sleep, like mine. So when they barged into my lair with all their commotion, my soberness was only an unfortunate result that came with it.

As to what their true aim was, I was still not sure. First intruders hadn't stayed for long, barely a dozen breaths, and after that, they came in growing numbers each time. They were clamorous, they usually carried sharp sticks and small fires, which they liked to jab me with. Some hurt a little, but most were nothing to be concerned about with my thick scales. If I hadn't known that I hadn't touched or bothered any humans, I would think they were here to take revenge. Since I hadn't harmed anyone of their kind, as the elders had advised us, I couldn't think of a reason for their rude behavior. Humans are peculiar creatures, I decided. They didn’t know how lucky they were that it was my lair they had invaded. Intruders were not welcomed by any member of my kind, that's why we tended to live far apart from humans, well, most of us did.

As for me, I was staring at the small body that was crouching by the far corner of my cave. Its eyes gleamed with the light of the small fire on a branch in its hand, never leaving my gaze. It had been sleeping on the floor, napping, before it woke up with a shout and unintelligible sounds. It was left behind by its people that ran out of the cave when I asked them to leave in a polite way, while it was napping. I had been thinking of ways to get it out of my cave when it opened its eyes —when it hadn’t even been a day at the time it woke up. That's when I came to the conclusion that humans were indeed very different from dragons.

The problem was, my body mostly covered the entrance, and without moving closer to the corner, I wasn't able to open the way for it to leave. And I couldn’t move a finger without making it shout like a newly hatched dragon. So, we were in a stalemate.

I huffed with annoyance, my head resting on my arms, my breath rising from my nostrils as white pillars in the chill air of the cave. Another shrill sound came from the corner.

Maybe it's wise to wait till it naps again, I thought, and then I can think of a way to drag it out. If I held it in my hands, which was about the size of my one finger, I could injure it with my sharp claws. Like how I did with my tail before. Accidentally. I wasn’t proud of that. It had hit the wall very softly, I might add. I didn’t know it was standing there, right beside my tail when I turned around.

Anyway.

Maybe I could use my teeth to drag it out by its feet once it was napping again, carefully of course. I hoped it had a deeper sleep than mine. Hmph, or maybe I could wait for its friends to come back to retrieve it. They would come eventually, right? Humans kept inviting themselves in since I had moved into this cave, and while all of them looked very similar, I was starting to recognize some of the humans, like this one in the corner.

It was a little shorter than the others but faster and more talkative. It wore a tooth of a predator hanging from a string around its neck. It had brown fur on its head and dark eyes and they were staring at me without a blink at the moment. I was doing the same for the last hundred breaths, wondering when this weird fight of gazes would end.

Something was poking me, under my legs. It had been bothering me for a while now, so I decided to check it out despite the protests from the corner. I lifted my body and my leg off the floor and found one of the shiny sticks humans used, this one as long as one of their arms. Humans hadn't left anything in my lair before, maybe it belonged to the one in the corner?

Its eyes trailed my sight and saw the shining stick, mouth silent for once. Now, it looked thoughtful with its eyes searching around the cave towards the entrance.

I pushed the stick away from me with a sweep of my tail and settled on the floor again. I was drowsy, I had been feeding in the mountains for days preparing for a good sleep, all the waiting and gaze fighting made me even more sleepy. My eyes were waiting for an opportunity to close. Who knows, maybe it would go away once I was asleep and not moving around. Without the poking stick underneath me, I was much more comfortable.

I folded my wings against my body, curved my tail tightly and laid my head on my arms, squeezed to the opposite wall of my lair as close as I could. Now, the entrance was halfway open. I hoped with all my heart that it was enough of an opening, and it would leave, as I shut my eyes, dozing off.

.

.

Clank

It hadn't been long before something disturbed my rest again. I opened one eye and checked the corner the human had been in.

It was not there anymore, instead, it was near my tail, his hand over the stick on the floor. It seemed frozen, with one arm in the air with the fire and the other reaching to the floor. It was even holding its breath as it stayed still. I met its wide eyes and found fear, not unlike a prey's last moments. This was a young one, I realized, a youngling among humans with a naive look in the eyes. A youngling should stay by its elders, to grow and to learn about being a proper member of its kind, not here intruding someone else’s lair... Was it as unruly as I had been?

I closed my open eye, listening to what it would do next. I knew what I wanted it to do, but I didn't know what it wanted by coming and sleeping in here, in my lair. I didn't understand much when it came to these creatures' motives and desires. I hoped it found what it was looking for here, or rested enough to leave my lair. I waited and listened to its rapid breaths.

After some time, it moved again. It shuffled closer and closer, his smell filling my nose as it did, and the light of its fire glowing behind my eyelids. Would it try to poke me again, somewhere where it would hurt this time? I waited, now I was the one holding my breath.

.

.

.

Then, it drew away. I heard it walk towards the entrance with fast steps. My cave grew darker and darker, and soon, its steps were inaudible.

I let out a puffing breath of relief. Opening my eyes to check my lair, I found it was empty and dark and all mine once again. I stretched my arms and legs, aired my wings with joy, my tail curling around the corners of the cave on its own—as if to make sure they were truly empty. I heated the stone under me with a quick blow of fire, perfect for a cozy sleep.

I really hoped this would be the last time I would see another human in my lair. Maybe it was a mistake to settle down near a human hive, like he said. What had my friend called them? Ah, villages.

Elders had taught us why getting near human settlements could end badly. The reason was simple, the moment you harmed—or ate—one of their own, they would hunt you down till they made an example of your corpse, a fact which my friend had reminded me of many times. Back then, I had told my friend to relax, because I didn't intend to harm or get close to any of them, therefore I could settle in the cave above this village. My friend hadn't approved my decision to move out so far away from the Hive—I could see it in his wiggling tail—but had told me to be careful and that he would come around after winter to check if I was alright.

My friend knew better than to try to talk me out of this because he knew I had wanted this since I was a youngling. My passion was an unseemly one for a dragon, even if it was a known matter among our kind to be drawn to shiny objects. The only new thing for my friend was that I had chosen this particular place to move in, to fulfill my dream.

For where else would I find a place with a crystal blue sea as dazzling as this one?