Dragon's First Flight

The baby dragon scuttled across the roof. It was free, free to run, free to climb, free to scurry, free to fly for the first time. He noticed the roof tiles were shaped and layered just like it's scales, or at least that of a much larger version of itself. Angular, overlaid, and strong. The Humons and Drrohg in town practically worshiped his kin, revering the dragons, but keeping them as pets, little different than a weasel. The edges of the roof had wings, they said it was for rain water, but to him, it was a ramp at the end of a slide, he could get air. As he ran to the end of the rooftop, he dove over the side, sliding down to the wing gathering as much speed as he could muster. And then he reached the ramp and he was launched high into the air where he spread his small wings and soared! He knew he could fly if he wanted to, and he wanted to, so he did. The air whipped under his leathery wings and he rose higher and higher. He could see the town walls in the distance now, 70, 80 feet into the air. And then he heard it, the familiar sound of his master, her voice echoing through the night streets, "(name)! Instinct drove him back to her, she called him, he had to go, he was hers. Freedom would have to wait.