It started, as these things often do, as a regular Wednesday morning. Maeve had opened her shop and was, for the first time in a long while, sorting through some of the knick-knacks on display. She hummed as she did so, sometimes stopping to squint at an ornament in thought and try to remember where she got it from, but otherwise she continued her work without interruption.

That changed, however, when there was a loud crash from the storage cupboard followed by a minute of increasingly creative swears. The door slammed against the wall as it opened and a short, disgruntled looking figure stomped out.

“We might have a problem,” the demon said, looking back into the room over his shoulder with some apprehension.

“What did you do this time?” Maeve put down the ornament she’d just picked up with a sigh.

“I might have broken a figurine and unleash-” he was interrupted by the sound of growling. 

“

Díograsach…tell me that wasn’t what I think it was…”

“It wasn’t the sound of a baby dragon,” he answered immediately.

“It was.”

“Why did you tell me not to tell you if you were just gonna disagree?!”