The older she got, the more things Dragon Little tried, the more she tested her strength and abilities.
At age four and a half she tried climbing the mast with one hand and two legs only. At age five, she tried, without success, to climb just with her feet.
At five and a half she tried something else. She tried and tried for many weeks while her father was away, living whatever life he was living in his waking world, without her knowledge.
Only once she had mastered it, was she ready to show it to him.
He appeared in the middle of the deck on Bonny’s Revenge, as always in exactly the same spot. She had been ready and waiting for him for almost two hours.
The second he appeared, she started jumping up and down: “You gotta watch this, Dad! You gotta watch this!”
This was done so fast following his appearance, that he shook his head, trying to concentrate on what was happening. As a result, the night sky, the cities in the clouds, and even the winds appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. It ist the world he creates every time he appears, no doubt without his knowledge
“Okay, okay,” the sky, the stars, the cities in the clouds, settled and appeared, as if permanent. “What’s up, Joy?”
“Watch this!”
She jumped at the mast, and twisted in mid-air. She caught and hugged the wooden mast and made sure that her head was at the bottom and her feet above. After a struggle, her feet hugged the mast as well.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
“Watch, watch! I can climb the mast!”
And relatively quickly, she started clambering up. “I’m going ass first! I’m going ass first!” She shouted, her head all red, her nearly transparent skin showing all the blood vessels engorged with blood.
“Uh… What’s the point of this?”
“Ass first! Ass first!” She repeated. Within two minutes, she reached the crow’s nest with her feet. She turned around and sat in it.
“Ta dahhhh!”
Dragon Father clapped. “Aw, who’s my little swashbuckler?”
“I’m a squashbuckler!” she corrected him.
Dragon Father turned his back to her, waving a hand dismissively. It was a sore spot for him. “Yeah, I’m not talking to you.”
—Told by The Red Dragon
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