There was something in the darkness of the caves, something small and skittery, but the dragon hadn’t been able to pin down what it was. The faint smells and unexpected noises had plagued her for well over a month, and she’d finally run out of places to look for the culprit. Reduced to sitting in the middle of the cavern and glaring in the general direction of the intruder, she dreamt up even more violent methods of revenge.

After two months of skittering she started talking back to the noises. At first it was simple insults, then more elaborate insults, and finally just general conversation. Dragons were a solitary lot by nature rather than choice, it had been decades since she’d had someone to talk to.

After six months of skittering and one-sided conversations, the noises stopped. It took her a few days to realize the silence had returned; her own rumbling voice had masked the emptiness. Startled, the dragon spent the next few days searching the caverns, but found nothing hidden in the shadows. Whatever it had been, her companion was gone, leaving the caves in disheartening quiet.