Classic Dragonberry moments

Instructions

Dragonberry’s Truth Bomb Dragonberry had been quiet for at least five whole minutes, which should have warned me something was coming. She was curled up beside me, little claws tugging absently at my tail as Cactus argued with Flare about something pointless. I wasn’t listening. Not really. My attention kept flicking back to him. The way the torchlight caught his pale yellow scales. The way his laugh rumbled in his chest. I tore my eyes away before anyone noticed. That was when Dragonberry sat up, blinking her wide green eyes. “You two should have dragonets.” The words dropped into the silence like a stone splashing into a pond. Flare snorted fruit juice out his nose. Oceania’s jaw literally fell open. Even Frost froze mid-eye-roll. Cactus made a strangled noise in his throat, wings flaring so wide he nearly smacked Oceania in the face. “WHAT?!” he coughed, hacking on thin air. Heat rushed under my scales so fast I thought I might actually catch fire. “Dragonberry!” I hissed, but my voice cracked halfway through. She tilted her head, completely innocent. “What? It’s true. They’d be really pretty. Yellow and black, like bees!” Flare actually wheezed with laughter, sliding halfway off his rock. “Bees! Oh moons, I can’t breathe—” “Stop talking,” I muttered, covering my snout with my talons. My wings felt glued to my sides. “Just. Stop. Talking.” Cactus still looked like he’d swallowed a stone. Dragonberry, meanwhile, went right back to playing with my tail, humming to herself as if she hadn’t just destroyed both our lives in front of everyone. Dragonberry roasting Midtus. Cactus and I sat in the clearing, pretending we weren’t sitting too close. The moons filtered through the canopy, painting his pale yellow scales silver. He caught me staring, and I snapped my eyes away so fast I nearly cricked my neck. Then came the buzzing. “Pssssst,” a tiny voice whispered from the branches above. “Midtus.” I froze. Cactus frowned. “Did you… hear that?” Before I could answer, a cloud of bees descended between us, swirling in a perfect heart-shape. And there she was — Dragonberry, peeking down from the vines, her snout split in a mischievous grin. “Don’t mind me,” she sang, tail curled smugly. “Just giving you two lovebees some privacy.” The swarm buzzed louder, darting closer to my snout. My wings flared. “Dragonberry!” Cactus’s ears flushed orange as he swatted at the air. “Seriously?” “Oh, don’t act embarrassed,” Dragonberry giggled, flicking her tongue. “The bees approve. And so do I.” She snapped her claws, and the bees zipped into another heart-shape — this one looping right around our heads. I groaned, covering my face with my talons. “I hate you.” “Love you too,” Dragonberry chirped. “Almost as much as you love each other!”