On a spring night, little dragon Filbert couldn't sleep. His tail kept getting in the way of getting comfortable, his wings poked his nose, and the spikes on his back unpleasantly caught on the blanket.
And then his stomach started rumbling. That was really not okay—sleeping on an empty stomach. He had to quietly get up and sneak past old nanny Agatha to the exit. Good thing she was snoring very loudly, so she didn't hear the wooden door with the letter F creak.
Filbert went out and thought. What should he eat? He couldn't fly to the kitchen at night, could he? Instead, he just wandered along his branch, wherever his eyes led him. And his dragon eyes looked boldly forward. And a little bit up. When he made his way to the very end of the branch, he couldn't hold back an admiring "wow!"
From the sky, clusters of bright stars looked down at him, illuminating the night tree. They sparkled and glittered like dew on grass. And Filbert loved dew. It's so sweet. He even licked his lips.
The dragon looked at them, looked and suddenly remembered how hungry he was! And started swallowing those stars. Filbert swallowed stars quickly, indiscriminately: small ones and big ones, bright ones and dimmer ones. He only came to his senses when it became completely dark around him.
Oh! What's this? Why is it so dark? Oh, I can't see anything, how scary!
Filbert got frightened. And then his stomach started hurting. The dragon hung his head and looked down: he had swollen up all over and was glowing slightly from the inside, like a broken lantern. His stomach felt really bad, and he roared with hot tears. So loudly that everyone woke up on the dragon tree.
And immediately there was a commotion, dragons were stepping on each other's wings, heads and tails, someone was falling and stumbling. And someone almost started a fire trying to light their way. The darkness was pitch black. And only Filbert's belly glimmered slightly in the middle of all this chaos.
Very soon the tree's inhabitants gathered around the only source of light. Nanny shook her head, stern teacher Xenophon looked carefully at Filbert, the others whispered barely audibly, trying to figure out what was wrong.
Finally, Xenophon addressed the culprit of the sudden gathering:
What are you doing here, child?
From the stern tone, Filbert roared so that smoke poured from his ears. Then the teacher spoke to him more gently.
Which room are you from?
My room is under the letter F.
The little dragon sniffled. Nanny Agatha nodded.
And how did you end up here?
She asked.
I went to eat.
Said Filbert.
Were you really hungry? After all, you had first-class cutlets for dinner!
The old woman was indignant. Her face, which looked more like a crocodile's, shook.
I don't like cutlets.
Filbert whispered barely audibly.
So why didn't you go to the kitchen?
Someone shouted from the darkness. Everyone immediately started nodding and agreeing.
I don't know. I was walking along the branch and suddenly saw them.
Saw who?
They asked from the crowd.
The stars.
Filbert lifted his nose and looked where the stars used to shine. And only then did the dragons understand why it had become so dark.
Did you eat all the stars?
They shouted, got indignant from different sides.
Not all of them. Only the ones I could reach.
Said Filbert. Everyone started clamoring again. They urgently began deciding what to do with Filbert.
We need to hang him upside down—they'll fall out by themselves.
Some said.
No, we need to act with more radical methods here.
Others said.
What are you talking about, we need to take the little dragon to the doctor urgently. An operation might be necessary!
Xenophon proclaimed. And at these words, Filbert became much more worried than about the unknown "radical methods" and the prospect of hanging upside down.
From fright, the dragon started hiccuping loudly. And suddenly a little star popped out of him. First one, then another. And with each hiccup they flew out more and more often.
It became completely light because all these stars hung over the tree and were in no hurry to rise back up. Soon the stars in Filbert's belly ran out. Almost all the adults dispersed. Only old nanny and Xenophon remained near the little dragon.
Well, was it tasty?
The teacher asked wearily.
No, not tasty. They're so prickly and cold, these stars. My stomach just hurt. And I'm still hungry.
Filbert glanced at the sky and shook his fist at the villains.
You shouldn't have poked my stomach, you'd better hang up there and shine.
And to himself he thought: "But the moon is so yellow, probably sweet. I should have bitten it instead, silly Filbert."
With such thoughts, the little dragon went to his bed following old nanny Agatha, and she continued to shake, disapprovingly shake her head and quietly grumble about the first-class cutlets.
