Noah, a curious boy of twelve, steps out onto the wooden porch of his uncle’s house, breathing in the earthy scent of rain-soaked soil. The distant hills rise like emerald waves, shrouded in wisps of steam that curl and dance above the treetops. In the golden light, he can hear birds calling and the occasional croak of a frog from the wet undergrowth. "Uncle Somchai, why does steam rise from the hills after it rains?"
Uncle Somchai, a gentle man with kind eyes, leans on the porch railing. "That is the jungle breathing, Noah. The earth lets go of its heat after the rain. But sometimes, there are mysteries hidden in that steam." Noah watches the swirling vapor, his imagination sparked. He decides to follow the path leading into the jungle, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Noah steps quietly, his shoes pressing into the soft, muddy earth. Ferns brush his legs and vines hang overhead, beading with leftover rain. The sound of distant dripping water mixes with the faint rumble of retreating thunder. He follows the trail of steam that rises ahead, weaving deeper into the undergrowth.
Noah's breath catches as he sees movement within the mist. At first, he thinks it’s a large lizard, but as the steam thins, he realizes it’s something far more extraordinary—a young dragon, scales iridescent and damp, sprawled luxuriously in a puddle, letting the cool rainwater trickle over its flanks. The creature's eyes are intelligent and curious, reflecting the green of the jungle around them. "You're... real," he whispers in awe.
Noah[/@ch_1] with a slow blink. The clearing is silent but for their breathing and the gentle hiss of evaporating water.]
The dragon doesn’t flee. Instead, it lets out a soft trill, the sound both musical and soothing. Tentatively, Noah steps closer, sensing no fear from the creature. He watches as tiny wisps of steam rise from its nostrils, merging with the mist curling above. "Do you come here every time it rains?" Noah asks, half expecting silence, but the dragon responds with another gentle sound, as if understanding.
Noah knows he must return before his uncle worries. He lingers, memorizing every detail—the shimmer of scales, the warmth of the dragon’s gaze. The dragon bows its head slightly before padding off into the shadows, leaving only ripples in the puddle and a faint trail of steam. "I’ll come back," Noah promises softly, heart brimming with wonder as he retraces his steps toward home, the steamy jungle now alive with secret possibilities.
