The priestess found a baby dragon while gathering herbs in the forest. Poachers had cut off its wings and left it to die. There was no sign of its parent.
She bandaged the wounds as best she could with what she had to hand and carried it back to the temple. It scratched and bit in a panic when she held it. She noticed that her blood and the dragon’s was the same shade of crimson.
The head abbot protested. “Dragons are not like other animals. It cannot be trained.”
“True, but it may choose to stay,” the priestess said.