The smith sighed as the hoe blade she was punching over the hardie cooled, it was going to need one more heat. Dammit where was that boy?
“Jason! Did you forget the way to the charcoal tun?!”.
The light in the forge dimmed as her apprentice blocked the door. “No master, but uh, we have a problem. She’s eaten most of it!”
“She, who, what?”
“Look” Jason said holding out the not-filled-with-fresh-charcoal bucket”.
“Burp, *cough*” said the bucket. A coppery head on a long neck rose out of the bucket, attached to a plump dragonet. Smoke curled from one nostril.
“Hello, little one”, the Smith began, “you’re a long way from home. Hungry eh, would you like to work for supper?”.
Taking the bucket she upended the dragonet onto the bed of the cooling forge, then lifted the hoe blade with a spike, depositing it back on the coals. “Hit it”