I am in my one-bedroom cabin with my best friend. “It’s nice and quiet here but this little fellow—“ Orville swoops down from the rafters and perches on my shoulder “—means I usually wake up shaped like a pretzel.”
My friend says what everyone says. “He’s small, why don’t you just move him?” Orville is about the size of a chihuahua.
“Dragons fly using antigravity. He’s graceful now, but when he’s asleep, he has a deadweight of forty kilograms.”