Once upon a time, there was a little dragon named Cony who lived in a forest filled with tall trees and colorful flowers. Cony loved playing with other dragons, but there was a problem: he couldn’t breathe fire! When the other dragons shot flames into the sky, Cony could only puff out a thin trail of gray smoke that vanished quickly.
“Why can’t you be like us?” they asked, and Cony would lower his gaze, sad.
But one morning, while chasing a butterfly near the lake, Cony discovered something magical. When he blew hard, instead of fire, colorful bubbles came out of his mouth! They were bubbles of every color, and inside each one floated a different story: dragons soaring among clouds, unicorns dancing in meadows, and even children exploring secret caves.
“Look at this!” Cony shouted, excited.
The forest animals gathered curiously. A rabbit, a fox, and a bird stood in awe as they watched the tales inside the bubbles.
“It’s like a theater in the air!” said the rabbit, hopping with joy.
“I want to see more!” the fox begged, twitching his fluffy tail.
From that day on, Cony became the forest’s official storyteller. Every afternoon, the animals gathered under a large oak tree to watch his bubbles. Cony created stories about pirates, enchanted castles, and brave animals. The bubbles floated above the lake, reflecting adventures everyone enjoyed.
One day, an older dragon named Fury approached, annoyed.
“Stop playing with bubbles!” he growled. “Dragons should breathe fire, not invent stories.”
Cony felt embarrassed, but the bird cheered him up:
“We love your stories! You’re special just the way you are.”
Cony nodded and kept creating bubbles. Soon, even the dragons who once mocked him began secretly watching his tales. One night, as Cony projected a bubble about an ice castle, Fury returned.
“How do you do it?” he asked, this time in a soft voice.
“I just… follow my heart,” Cony replied.
Fury fell silent. The next day, the forest dragons threw a party to celebrate Cony.
“Your bubbles teach us we don’t all have to be the same!” they said. “You’re the most creative dragon we know!”
Cony smiled, happy. He no longer wanted to breathe fire. He had found something better: filling the forest with magical stories!
And so, every night, Cony’s bubbles shimmered in the sky, reminding everyone that what truly matters is being authentic and sharing joy.
End. 🐉
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