“Garble! GARBLE!” A voice squeaked from outside of Garble’s “studio,” which was really just a private outcropping in the Dragonlands. Garble looked away from his pony-made bongo set. Upon recognizing the voice he set the bongos down, turned toward the “entrance” of the studio to welcome the distraught child. As soon as he saw her tiny frame, Garble lowered himself to his knees and spread his arms to pull her into a comforting hug. She cried into his chest, clutching him tightly.
“What’s wrong, Asante?”
“T-t-the other kids-they s-s-said-” She could hardly get the words out between sobs.
“Hey, hey, hey, kiddo…just take a moment. Come, take a breath. And tell me exactly what those kids said.”
Asante forced herself to take a big gulp of hair, her tiny breath shaking as she did so. But, as she exhaled, her voice stabilized. “They said…that I wasn’t a dragon. T-they called me a halfling monster. Why would they say that?” She buried her face back in his chest.
“Well, Asante, you aren’t a dragon.” Garble said with terrible frankness.
“W-what…?” She looked up at him with big eyes; blue, for the time being as her complexion reflected her feelings.
“You’re half-dragon, half-catfolk.”
“So…I am a monster?” Her lip quivered.
“Of course not, rainbow. You’re Asante, and you just so happened to be born half-dragon, half-cat. Sometimes creatures, especially dragons, like to believe everyone has to be the same. Even I thought that at a time…but eventually I figured out how dumb it is to try to be anything besides yourself. Do you see any other dragons wearing a beret and playing bongos?”
“…n-no…”
“That’s right. And that’s their loss. If someone’s making fun of you, it’s probably because they’re afraid of how cool you are.” He nuzzled her snout, making her giggle. “You’re my special girl, and no one is ever going to take that away from you. Okay?”
“Heh. Okay.” She wiped her wet nose and smiled weakly up at her father who smiled back.
“Now go kick their scaly butts for daring to challenge your greatness!”
“Yes, sir!” Asante’s color shifted to bright yellows and reds as her playful spirit returned. Garble watched his daughter leapt from his lap to resume her play, a proud smile creasing his face.
And Asante never let those dum-dums get her down again.
Garble is a bongo-playing-beat-poetry-writing-single-father in the Dragonlands. If anyone understands what it’s like to be an outcast, it’s him. There are many things that are strange to dragon culture that Garble has embraced, such as the concept of fatherhood. Some dragons have adopted more nuclear family dynamics, but for the most part, dragons are raised by the society. Garble and his little sister Smolder and their siblings did grow up with the concept of a mother and father, so Garble carried that into his own parenthood with Asante.
Garble didn’t anticipate becoming a father, especially since catfolk-dragon hybrids are not common, even among the already scarce hybrid population. He was honestly baffled that his travels to Klugetown, while trying to find himself, would result in an odd little baby girl. Her mother abandoned her with Garble, and the two of them have been together ever since. It’s also from him that she gains her radical, artistic flare that she carries into her teaching career at the School of Friendship.