[ WP ] When everyone turns 18 , they receive a pet which is figurative of their personality . You 're the first person to receive a dragon ...

When Cara noticed the dragon circling in the sky overhead, her heart sank. 
 
 Her mind cast back to her fifteenth year, huddled in the woods with her father, Tormek, and his Soulbeast, a shrewd badger called Soomey. She clutched a poorly made bow she had worked on for the past year, the bow string frayed, the wood old and cracked, the arrows too thick, too bulky. The arrowheads kept falling off, and so she was forced to begin her first hunt with little more than sharpened sticks with downy feathers glued to the back. Her father said nothing, though his steely gray eyes and hardened face spoke volumes to her. Soomey tried to reassure her by sticking close, nuzzling up against her ankles as they traversed the forest. Her father led her through a trail wrought by the leather shod feet of every fifteen year old that began their journey to adulthood in their small village. The autumn air was chilly, a light breeze blowing away whatever heat was left in her body; a trivial gift to the god of the forest. 
 
 She caught nothing that day, each arrow falling short of its target, or bouncing harmlessly from thick hides, or falling apart in her own hands. She watched as the animals listened to the sound of her softly sobbing, their ears swiveling toward her specific location before bounding away from the presumed danger, and as the sunrise became the sunset, her father's face slowly morphed into a disapproving visage Cara would never forget. She was the only girl in her tribe allowed the Rite of Passage, and even now, at the age of eighteen, she could still hear the Chief of her tribe's belly laughter when her father requested permission to track game in the woods with his daughter. `` She is special,'' her father had said, three years ago. `` Falg the prophet has foretold it.'' 
 
 `` The only thing special about a woman,'' the tribal chief had said, `` is her ability to bear children. But if the Prophet speaks, we listen.'' And that was the end of the conversation. As the guards led Cara and her father away from the chief's home, she tried to drown out the cackling laughter of the chief and his hyena, and the pointing and laughing of the young boys who had lined up outside the dwelling to listen in. Her face was crimson with embarrassment, and she kept her head low, and when, as they walked, her father said, `` Cara, do n't pay attention to them. You *are* special, and one day you will lead these people,'' her only response was to cry so hard, her ribs began to shudder. 
 
 Today, the dragon landed in front of her, on the path back to her village. It was roughly the size of a horse, mottled green-blue scales which shimmered in the summer sunlight, and was watching Cara calmly but intently with piercing yellow eyes. 
 
 Having steeled herself for three years for this very moment, Cara said, firmly, `` I do n't want you.'' 
 
 The dragon tweaked its head diagonally, then took a step forward. 
 
 `` No,'' said Cara. `` I told you, I do n't want you.'' 
 
 She began walking past it, and it responded by following her. She took a few steps forward before turning sharply on her heel and shouting, `` GO AWAY!'' 
 
 The dragon took a cautious step backward and lowered its head until it was nearly on the ground. Then, it flipped on its back, writhing on the dirt path as though it were scratching its back. Cara watched this curiously. 
 
 `` You're not a dog,'' she said. `` I'm not going to scratch your stomach.'' 
 
 The whimper-growl that issued from the dragon's mouth was enough to melt steel, much less her heart. She sighed and crossed her arms, looking away from the dragon. `` I'm sorry but I do n't want you. Go back to wherever it is you come from.'' 
 
 She started walking again. The dragon flipped over and leaped forward while pushing its wings down with great force, all in one fluid motion, launching itself into the air and kicking up a significant amount of dust. Cara put her arm up to her face to keep the dust from getting in her eyes. When it settled, she lowered her arm to see the dragon in front of her again, very close, head low, looking up at her and sniffing the air a bit. Cara refused to move. The dragon, then, pushed the top of its head against her hand. 
 
 `` Are you a dog, or a cat?'' Cara asked. `` I never thought dragons would want so much attention. Look, if I take you then that means everything that Falg said all those years ago is true, and I do n't want it to be true. I'm perfectly happy being where I am now. I do n't need to go around saving the world. So please, go home.'' 
 
 The dragon responded by suddenly jerking its head away from her, looking farther down the path. Cara looked as well, and saw a boy from the village, Gogin, running towards her. His face was red with blood and he was clutching his side. `` Help! Help!'' he screamed. `` The South Lords are attacking the village!'' 
 
 `` Very funny, Gogin. The South Lords are a fairytale --'' Cara began, but was cut short when Gogin bent backwards a bit, and then slumped forward, hitting the ground with a loud thud, a long iron arrow sticking out from his spine. Behind him, a man dressed in black lowered his bow slightly, assessing the situation. Before Cara could even breathe, the dragon leaped into the air towards the man, who was still a distance away. The man notched another arrow in his bow to shoot at the dragon, but the dragon vomited a spray of thick green mucus onto the man, which immediately began to eat at his clothing. The man screamed, but loosed the arrow, which the dragon deftly dodged before falling directly over the man and clamping his jaws onto the man's neck. The dragon lifted its head, and the man's body, which was now sizzling as the acid began to eat through his flesh. He looked back at Cara as if asking what to do next. 
 
 `` Destiny is impossible to run from,'' Falg the prophet had said to her, three years ago. `` For all roads lead to it.''
