There is a noise that in all my years I have only heard Dragon Little make.

It began when she was three and a half years old.

“Dad, scratch my back,” she asked her father before the day’s adventure started.

“Here?”

“Up.”

“Here?”

“Down.”

“Here?”

“That way…” she pointed to the right. “Up… Down… That way…” she point left. “Grrrrrrrrchhhhh!” Her entire face wrinkled in pleasure and she made this strange… noise that was both a grunt and a squeak simultaneously.

“I’m sorry, what was that sound you made?” Dragon Father asked, smiling.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Dragon Father continued, and: “Grrrrrrrrchhhhh!”

“Grreeeeeech?!”He tried to copy the high squeak but could not get close.

“Grrrrrrrrchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she bent back in pleasure.

“Grrrrrrooooooch?”

“Grrrrrrrrchhhhh!” She grunted and squeaked.

“Greeeeeeeeeeeccccchhhhhh?” he could not stop smiling as he tried to mimic her.

And then the itch was scratched and she straightened. “Dad, enough!”

He made a face, acclimating himself to the order he was given. “Okay. Ready for battle?”

“Let’s goooooo!”

And battle was indeed not far away.

—Told by The Red Dragon