Pipsqueak & the Bubbles

Pipsqueak was not like the others.

Where her siblings sharpened their claws, she marvelled at the softness of a bubble drifting by. Where young dragons learned to summon sparks, she conjured spheres of light, delicate as morning mist. Where roars shook the earth, she giggled as her bubbles shimmered and popped like tiny wishes. The others watched her with tilted heads and piercing, narrow eyes. A dragon, they’d whisper, was meant to be fierce. Fearsome. A force of flame and fury. But Pipsqueak did not want to burn the world. She wanted to fill it with colour. With light. With floating moments of wonder. So she wandered further and further. Away from the weight of their expectations.

Through the whispering trees, her bubbles drifted, reflecting endless sky blue, the golden hush of sunlight through leaves. And then – movement. A flicker of gold in the shadows. A creature, neither dragon nor beast, but something in between. Feathers kissed by sunlight. Paws light as wind. It moved with the same quiet joy as he bubbles, weaving between them as if it belonged among them. For the first time, Pipsqueak saw a reflection of her own heart in another. Not a mirror of scales and fire, but something else. Something… someone that danced instead of raged, that marvelled over destruction. She watched as the creature batted at a bubble. Its eyes wide with delight. Its wings lifting as if to chase the floating orbs into the sky. It did not shrink from her softness. Did not question why she was drawn to things so fleeting and fragile.

In that moment, Pipsqueak understood.

She had spent so long trying to fit into the shape others had carved for her. Yet, she was not made of fire and fear. She was made of wonder. Of light. Of small joys that made the world feel wide and magical. The golden creature leapt, Pipsqueak leaping too – higher, freer. Laughter bubbling up like air beneath her wings.

She had always belonged. She had simply been looking in the wrong place. As the last of the day’s bubbles rose into the evening sky, Pipsqueak let go of the need to be anything but herself.