“Joy! Joy!” 

Half an hour earlier, Dragon Little, now four years old, derailed the adventure Dragon Father had planned for them. They had been hunting down a sect of the Flying Witches on a derelict planet, and had suddenly seen a beautiful stream. 

Dragon little had begged, demanded, begged, then demanded again to get into the stream and swim. Dragon Father allowed her to do it for only half an hour, while the witches waited in the pub called The Green Dragon. And, yes, I do believe Dragon Father was thinking of me when he created that pub out of nothing. 

Now the half hour had passed, and Dragon Father lowered the rope ladder to one side of the river. 

“Joy!” he yelled again. She was so engrossed in her game that she hadn’t seemed to hear him. 

“What is it, Dad?” 

“It’s time to go. The witches are about to leave!” 

She climbed out of one bank a few dozen meters from the rope ladder. “Okay, okay,” she said. 

She picked up her sword and dry clothes (she was wearing the special swimsuit her father had conjured earlier that day) and started running towards the ladder. 

Then she leapt into the water. 

“Joy!” 

Wordlessly, she swam to the other bank, climbed out, and continued running in her father’s direction. 

Then she jumped into the water again and swam to the other bank. 

“Oh, jeez…” Dragon Father lowered his head in resignation as he realized what she was doing: She was doing what he had asked by taking the longest route with the most water. 

It took four more swims for Dragon Little to get to the rope ladder. 

When she climbed up, her father looked at her. “Can we go fight witches now?” 

“Yes, Dad!” 

—Told by The Red Dragon