Rowan Tree and Red Thread

Across the room Oscar has got hold of sammywol's empty tea cup. He sticks his face into it and bellows, a proper little dragon roar. Here at the computer I pick up my also empty cup and imitate his roar. He looks over at me and breaks into a broad, impish grin. More bellowing, grunts and squeaks follow all uttered into the bottom of a Harry Potter mug, as he communicates with me, a small tea-loving dragon calling to his Dad.