Luma slowly approached the playhouse and opened the little door.
“Hisses!” Timir hissed.
“It’s me, Timir,” she said, crawling inside. “I got you some more things.”
Timir’s eyes narrowed, the diamonds sparkling in the gloom. “Mine?”
“Yes, all yours,” Luma said, opening the backpack.
She took out the yellow rosette first.
“Do you remember? We won this when we did the agility race.”
Luma held the rosette out toward him, the charm bracelet dangling almost in front of his snout.
“You did so well,” Luma continued. “You jumped all the jumps and you did the weaving poles even though you didn’t like them.”
The heart charm released a small stream of bubbles.
Timir looked up as they floated in front of him.
Inside one, he was flying over a bright yellow jump.
“Jumping,” Timir said, blinking as the bubble popped.
Luma placed the rosette next to him.
“What else is mine?” Timir asked, nodding toward the bag.
“Your yo-yo,” she said, once again bringing her arm close to Timir as another flurry of bubbles shot out of the heart charm.
They watched as Timir slid down a slide in one and sniffed a prickly cactus in another.
“Plants,” Timir said, transfixed as the bubbles drifted toward him. “My yo-yo and puddles and Nani’s chocolate cake … Flora.”
Timir began to scowl. He wasn’t too keen on Nani’s friend Flora—she liked to talk a lot!
“And here’s your rubber duck!” Luma said, quickly pulling it out and placing in front of him. “Remember? You had one when we went to the training lesson.”
“Squirrel,” Timir murmured, staring up at a bubble with him chasing a small fluffy tail. “Treats!” he said, grinning at another with his nose pushed inside the trainer’s pouch.
“Yes, yummy treats. I’ve got some here too,” she said, finding the bag and pouring several out onto her hand.
Timir leaned forward to gobble them up. The bubbles popped one after the other, all over his snout and horns and prickly spines.
And then Luma brought out the last item—the music box.
The day Luma found Timir in her yard, he was holding on to a blue, spotted, leathery scrap, the very last bit of his eggshell. It was only when Luma convinced Timir it would be safe in her music box that Timir was able to bond with her.
Luma twisted the little handle and opened the lid.
Twinkly music played as the ballerina spun around.
“Ooh,” Timir cooed.
Luma grinned as more and more bubbles appeared.
It seemed as if every moment she had ever spent with Timir was contained within them. Every morning snuggle and evening cuddle, every laugh, smile, and giggle, every game and bounce on their trampoline and shrieks of chasing each other around the garden.
“Look, it’s your eggshell,” Luma said, carefully picking it up.
Timir beamed, sniffing and snuffling his leathery scrap.
The bubbles came faster still—too fast now to see inside each one, but they covered Timir from the top of his pointy dragon ears to the tip of his arrow-shaped tail, until Luma could barely see him at all.
There was silence and then…
“Luma?” Timir frowned. “Where am I? What is all these things?”
He looked up at her and his pupils were circles, not even a hint of diamonds to be seen.
Luma launched forward, tangling Timir in a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re back!” she cried.
“Back?” Timir said. “Where did I go?”
Luma giggled and then she told him everything that had happened.
