Text Cut: BanaBatGirl
Quote:
Originally Posted by
BanaBatGirl 
"No I do not," he answered simply, bending down to pick up the metal, magical alloy baby bottle he'd worked with a former professor to create. Unscrewing the cap, Williamson dipped the bottle into the dragon food and filled it up, then wiped it clean with a nearby rag and put the lid back on.
He knelt down by the dragon and held on the bottle to it, grinning as it latched on right away. Without taking his eyes off the baaaaaby, he answered Sierra's second question.
"Dragons take a good two years to mature. They don't fly until they're almost a full year old and they don't start breathing fire until they're about six months old." He shot a grin out toward the class. "So don't worry about your hair catching fire, kids, this one isn't a Norwegian Ridgeback." Ridgebacks, as everyone knew, could snort flames at only a month old.
But that reminded him. "Class, knowing the parents of this little fella are a Romanian Longhorn and a Swedish Short-Snout, what sort of characteristics from each would you expect him to have when he's full-grown?"
Oh and it was time for another refill! Willy's baby was so hungry. Er, thirsty. Teehe.
Well pin a rose on his nose. No more chocolate eggs?! The nerve! Not that Sierra was some candy fanatic, because she wasn't, but she also found it rude that he ate right in front of them yet didn't have any to share. She nodded along, though, to his answers to her question.
"I see," she said, but inside she was still glad she'd stepped
behind those Puffers. No way was she putting
herself into a position to get attacked first.
"Well, I think when it grows older," she said, raising her hand,
"it's less likely to kill us all. It has a track record of not coming into much contact with humans."
Except for Care of Magical Creatures class, it seemed.
Text Cut: Baby Dragon!
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Baby Dragon!
The baby dragon happily slurped from the bottle his daddy gave him. He had not noticed neither the many, many pairs of eyes on him nor the flashing lights because he was so hungwee. Busting out of an egg was much, much harder than it looked.
Finishing off one bottle after another, the baby dragon took a breather and let out a happy baby sigh of approval, settling back onto his hind legs. He was getting sweepy now. "Yeeeeeowww!" he squeaked, flapping his tiny wings and then folding them up nicely. He bumped his little nose into Daddy's hand and snorted, tiny curls of smoke leaking out of his nostrils.
Sweepy time? He blinked around at the big barn, trying to find a place to cuddle up for a nap, and just then noticed the people watching him.
"EEEOOOORRRRRRRKKKKK!" the dragon let out another squawk, this one sounding a little more terrified. He blinked up at his Daddy and started backing up, not liking all the people eying him. And what were those flashes? So many lights! "EEEOOOORRRRRRRKKKKK!!!!"
Sierra's eyes grew wide with surprise, and she watched as the dragon started to...well, go completely crazy it looked like.
"Err, Professor? I don't think it likes us very much," she said.
"What are you planning on doing with it after class anyway?" Had he said that yet? In all the hatching excitement, Sierra hadn't heard.
Text Cut: BanaBatGirl
Quote:
Originally Posted by
BanaBatGirl [spoiler=responses! 
]
Nodding somewhat at all of the answers, William finished feeding the baby most of the pail of mixture and watched as the dragon started to get full and sleepy. About time! It was going on one a.m. here!
"There, there now, Baby, shhhhhhhshhh," Willy started to calm the baby, reaching out with his hand to stroke its little head. He cleared his throat and LOOKed at the class, hoping they would take a hint and be quiet for a little while longer, at least until the dragon fell asleep.
Then he responded to their answers more quietly. "Your guess is as good as mine. I think this fella will grow up to have characteristics of both parents, depending on recessive genes and such; unfortunately I can't tell you which parent was which breed, as both are either dead or disappeared."
He gave a shrug and filled up the baby's bottle with the remainder of the chicken blood/brandy mixture, holding it out to the poor, orphan baby dragon.
"You're probably the closest," he nodded toward one Ravenclaw in particular. "I would guess that this guy breathes pretty deadly fire as well. You can see that he has green scales for now, right? Those could change as it ages." The dragon was now back to suckling on the bottle and was hopefully no longer distracted by the class, though Willy could see that it WAS still eying the children in the front row.
"Let's all settle down for now though, all right? I'll let you pet the baby when he starts to fall asleep. It might help if you guys sang a little nursery rhyme...or at least hummed one...."
Pet it?! They were going to pet the...BABY?!
How about no? Could they opt out if they wanted to? Watch from afar, maybe? ...and, were they still suggesting names for this
creature?
"How about RORO?" she suggested
"Pronounced RAWR-o." The name just SCREAMED dragon to her.