Hello, my little friends, My name is Gummy…. I am a forest guardian troll. I am from Clan 7. Aliva my little sister (not really a troll but just as persistent) has asked me to tell you about who I am and tell how I came to be in the Haunted Fen Clan of trolls. When I was just a little troll, I was guarding a dragon egg in a temple ruin when I was attacked by a group of little rock people. They wanted to take the egg and have a big egg breakfast for their group. I tried to hit them, but it hurt my fists, then I tried to stomp them but it hurt my feet. So, I decided to eat them….. They were hard and crunchy on the outside but so juicy in the middle. About halfway through the group I started to notice it was harder to chew on them, not realizing that my teeth were falling out because they were breaking. By the time they ran away I was left with only 2 teeth left… so running to Trollmom Urglish I told her what happened. I didn’t want the other trolls to know because they would laugh at me, so I asked her what to do. Urglish after some coughing (which I know now was laughter) she called the Artist Troll named R’destro. She talked with him for a while and explained what happened. He grunted and said “1 day” then he left for his workshop. I went back to guarding my egg. The morning sun came up, and I was so hungry but with no teeth I just sat forlorn and thought it was maybe time to ask Urglish to assign a different troll to take over. Then in the distance I see R’destro coming up the cliff face with a large bag and a small bag swinging by his side. He doesn’t say much which is normal…. He never talks much. He gestures for me to sit down on a log and wait for him. He set up a small table and begins pulling out things and putting them on the table in front of me. With shock my eyes can’t believe what I am seeing. I am seeing a bunch of teeth that are removable. R’destro grunts and gestures for me to put one set in my mouth then checks to make sure it fits right. He takes a step back and shows me a polished piece of steel and I can see myself in the reflection… I slowly smile and growl and make faces at myself and then start to laugh with joy. I jump up and try to hug R’destro but he keeps me at arm’s length. He nods pleased with himself and his creations. After that he packs up his bigger bag with the table, steel piece, and little tools and hands me the smaller bag for the teeth and with a wave he starts back down the cliff.

By the time we reached a narrow shelf halfway down the mountain, dusk had bled into night, the sky bruised purple and gold like a dying ember. The wind sharpened, and I knew we couldn’t go farther. I pitched my small tent against the rock face and began gathering what little wood the cliff allowed, fumbling with stiff fingers. Before I could strike a spark, the hatchling tilted his head, eyes glowing with sudden understanding. He inhaled too deeply, then sneezed—a tiny, sputtering flame popping from his mouth and catching the kindling alight. He startled himself more than me, hopping back before proudly craning his neck as the fire took hold. We shared what rations I had—water, dried meat, crumbs he sniffed suspiciously before nibbling—and as the fire crackled, I laughed softly and said, “You can’t stay nameless.” He looked up at me, firelight dancing across his dark blue and violet scales, shining like a night sky holding onto its last star. “Sunny,” I said, and his tail thumped once, as if the name fit. When sleep finally pulled at me, I crawled into the tent, leaving the flap open. Sunny curled beside the entrance, wings folded tight, chin resting on his claws—guarding the fire, the mountain, and me.

Cradling the tiny dragon against my chest, I edged toward the cave mouth, where the cliffside dropped away into a dizzying expanse of wind and sky. The stones beneath my boots shifted, sending me skidding toward the ledge—and before I could even shout, the little dragon let out a startled chirp. His wings, still soft and slightly translucent, snapped open on pure instinct. With a wobbling flutter—and a panicked sneeze that sparked a harmless puff of fire—he pushed against the air, just enough to tug my weight backward. It wasn’t flight… not really. More like a determined flapping that slowed my slide and helped me regain my footing. I pressed a hand to the wall, heart hammering, as he looked up at me proudly, as if he had just saved me. “Good job, little guy,” I whispered, and he trilled, nestling into my arm—already acting like my tiny guardian long before he could truly fly.

As I gathered the little dragon into my arms, its scales shimmered with shifting blues and violets, like moonlight rippling across deep water. It let out a soft chirr of satisfaction—and then suddenly jerked its head back with a tiny, startled hiccup. Before I could react, a spark flared from its snout, no bigger than a firefly, drifting upward before bursting into a tiny halo of golden light. The dragon blinked in confusion, then sneezed again, releasing another flicker that danced through the air like a wayward ember. I laughed despite myself, holding it a little farther from my shirt. “Easy, little star,” I murmured. The hatchling looked up at me sheepishly, as if even it wasn’t sure what had just happened, and pressed its warm forehead into my chest. Power thrummed faintly beneath its skin—ancient, wild—yet wrapped in the innocence of a creature still discovering its own breath.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The air still shimmered with heat from the broken shell, tiny sparks fading into the damp air of the ruins. Then the hatchling tilted its head, studying me with eyes like glowing embers beneath deep sapphire scales. A soft trill escaped its throat—half curious, half content—and it stumbled forward on unsteady claws. I knelt instinctively, holding out my hand, and it pressed its snout into my palm, warm and smooth as polished stone. The hum I’d felt before returned, but now it pulsed between us, shared and steady. When it blinked up at me, I could feel the thought—not in words, but in knowing: you found me. I laughed softly, brushing away the last bits of shell from its wings. “Then I guess that makes us family,” I said. The little dragon chirped in reply and curled against my side, already claiming its place.