"Strange", the wise old dragon said. "A human, but one without fear, nor a dragon-slayer's steely confidence, nor a cultist's adoration."
Her great wings folded, she walked up to the farm boy in her den for a closer look.
"But there's something more to you..."
Her piercing golden eyes stared into his. Not fear, not fanaticism, not hatred. Rather, recognition... and, a hint of wonderous envy?
"Ah. I think I see. I was mistaken - not a human after all."
These words roused the farm boy from his entranced stupor.
"... Excuse, me?"
The dragon smiled. Not an intimidating smile, nor a patronizing one. A warm, honest smile - a smile for family.
"I know kin when I see them, littlehorns. And the discomfort in your movements, the longing glance you gave to my dresses for human disguise - You're not a boy either, are you?"
The young, quiet girl's eyes began to tear. The dragon had seen right through her - perhaps even to depths she had not yet truly realized.
And between tears, the world suddenly changed. Did... Did it just become sharper? The dragon's hoard seemed so much shinier and prettier now...
"Oh, that's interesting..." The dragon chuckled. "A desire strong enough, that when you realize it's there, it's enough to light your fire, and let your true self shine through... I had heard of this a few times but I never thought I'd ever see it."
The young dragoness wiped some of the tears off her face. "Excuse me?"
The wise dragon, with a pinch of her claws, slid a shiny mirror from her hoard over, and the young dragoness gazed into it -
and beautiful, gold-flecked slitted eyes gazed back.
"Welcome home, littlehorns."