Meet Rei, my pet dragon.

I honestly didn't mean to adopt Rei--when I went to the shelter, I wanted a kitten. A normal, non-firebreathing, non-flying kitten; something cute, playful, and cuddly.

Rei wasn't having a particularly good day. She yowled and hissed that busy Saturday--her first day up for adoption--almost ensuring that she wouldn't find a "forever home." Cat lovers and volunteers avoided her alike; Rei quickly made it clear that she wanting nothing to do with people unless it involved food, and even then she'd only pick at it if she were starving.

Of course, I knew none of this. When I entered the shelter, Rei spotted me, softened her eyes, and let out a soft "mew." She looked adorable, a tangerine kitten with bright yellow and white highlights and purple-brown eyes. She looked like she needed me, and I--a late 20-something workaholic with a penchant for making impulsive Saturday-morning decisions--was an obvious, gullible target.

She looked like the cutest orange tabby I'd ever seen.

I asked a volunteer to open her cage--"She likes you!"--and Rei quickly melted into my arms, put her paws up on my shoulder, and nuzzled my neck under my jawline. The volunteer pointed out poor Rei had been found in a sewer. "There's a chance she may have been abused," she informed me.

Rei looked up at me with her almond eyes and meowed again, as if she could understand that I needed a nudge of encouragement to start filling out the paperwork.

I took her home that day.

If you're only interested in the art process, skip to the bottom of this post.

Before going to the shelter, I'd done all the research. Let the new cat get out of the crate on her own. Set up the kitty litter. Pour food and water. Wait for cuddles.

Instead, when I opened Rei's cage to show her the apartment, she strutted out, sniffing. She looked up at me, blinked slowly, and put her nose to the ground. She sniffed and paused, then trotted to the kitchen. Sniff. Pause. She went to the fridge. Sniff.

Have you ever seen a kitten try to bite through a refrigerator?

Rei's tiny teeth sunk into the aluminum, generating a teeth-gritting, high-pitched grinding noise that shrieked into the hallway and into nearby apartments. "Rei!" I screamed, hands over ears, unsure of what to do. Rei looked over to me. "Mew?"

I would quickly learn that Rei, indeed, was trying to communicate, and was conscious of how easily I could be manipulated into helping her. "Mew," my ass.

I walked over to her, worried that she had hurt her teeth. The little furball purred against my leg.

"See, it's a refrigerator," I tried to explain. I opened the door to show her my bachelorette lifestyle: ketchup, mayo, a half-eaten sandwich, some uncooked bacon, and ahi tuna--a special steak I'd picked up for myself to celebrate adopting a cat.

Of course, I never got to eat that tuna.

The fridge's light flicked on. Rei moved so quickly that my eyes couldn't trace her. She popped up on her hind legs, snatched the package with her snappy jaws, and then dragged it under the couch.

I was terrified--the realization that my new cat had figured out how to break into my tuna hadn't quite hit me yet, nor the understanding that I'd just lost my $30 steak to a kitten--no, instead I was worried about Rei choking on plastic. I dropped down to my knees, frantic.

"Rei, you can't eat that!" I shoved my hand under the couch. Rei scooted away and tore open the plastic. I stood up, unable to get under the couch myself, and then decided to take serious action. I wasn't going to lose this cat to a choking hazard in its first five minutes in my home. I fit my hands underneath the couch, squatted, then lifted.

Rei looked up at me, the steak hanging out of her mouth. She dropped it, mouth agape, and flattened her ears. "Get out from under there," I said as gently as possible, sweeping my foot at her to try to scare her into moving. Realizing that I posed no threat, Rei returned her attention to the steak. It was cold, so she decided to light it on fire. With her mouth. Along with my carpet and the underside of my couch.

I was so surprised that I dropped the couch in a giant crash. I stepped back a few paces, watching the glowing shadows under my furniture. I could have run and got water, or pulled the fire extinguisher, or literally done anything other than stand there stupidly.

But I was dumbfounded. And worried that I'd crushed my cat with my couch.

Did I mention that this is also the story about why I had to leave Crestview Apartments?

The fire alarm shook me out of my trance.

Oh right, I thought to myself, My couch is on fire.

Actually it was my couch, my carpet, and my curtains at that point. Rei, quite alive and now full, pushed against the wall, staring me down. Smoke started to fill the room. I reached for her. She spat flames. "I'm trying to help you!" I exclaimed, reaching in again.

This time, I was the one pulled back. A fireman. That's what I get for living three blocks from the station.

Downstairs, the entire complex waited. Smoke dramatically billowed from my window. I babbled to the guy who pulled me out of the building about my fire-breathing cat. He either ignored me or couldn't hear me or didn't care--and honestly, I don't even know if words were coming out at that point. I felt like I was drunk, or hallucinating. He dropped me off with the other 50ish residents and returned to the condos to join his crew.

Ten minutes went by.

Fifteen.

Finally, the firemen emerged. One of them held Rei by the scruff of her neck. She looked annoyed but unharmed.

"I found our little culprit," he said, pointing to the orange tabby. "Whose dragon is this?"

A murmur went through the crowd. Aren't dragons scaley? And aren't they illegal in cities?

The fireman held it up higher, "Seriously, folks. This is a fire hazard. We'll have to bring her in to be put down if she doesn't have an owner."

With that, Rei started panicking, attempting to squirm away from the fireman. I remained quiet, nervous about the crowd of people. desperate to blend in. Rei yowled. It sounded like a baby crying. A helpless infant in need of love and protection.

"She's mine," I confessed. "I didn't realize she was a dragon."

The fireman rolled his eyes, popped her in a crate and walked her over to me. The crowd went silent, half with curiosity, half with irritation.

"These are illegal to own here," he explained, locking the crate and gesturing towards my now-destroyed apartment. "You can tell she's a dragon by her long whiskers and the two little nubs on her back." He pointed instructional. "Oh," I said. He studied me, then added, "Or by her long whiskers here. Or by her fire. Where did you find her?"

"I adopted her from the shelter like a half-hour ago," I answered honestly. The crowd had turned into groups, all watching, whispering. The fireman lowered his voice.

"I can deal with her if you'd like," he said.

For a moment, I thought about letting Rei disappear. She'd been in my life for less than an hour, and she was clearly way out of my new-kitten-Mom care skills. And yet--

--"mew"--

I couldn't let her go. I moved out to suburbia--I like it better than the city, anyway--and started my new life with my dragon.

Rei: Rei (רעי Re'iY) means "my companion; my friend."

I had a love of fun with this project, which I created for the awesome dragon art contest @kristyglas hosting.

Rei's portrait wasn't easy. I started off in the completely wrong direction, and ended up changing my draft three times. I'll cut it short and just keep the current iteration--other issues involved a corrupt file, getting a better computer with a stylus, and realizing I started my drawing at 72 DPI instead of 300.

How did I make Rei?

Without further ado: the process.

I started out sketching on a touch screen with my fingers. I know, very low tech, but it's all I had. This was my rough starting position, accidentally made using 72 DPI using Pixlr.

Between this and the next images, I got a new laptop with a stylus which made the whole process much easier. That also means I cut the earlier sketching pics in favor of the digital design stuff.

I started out with a simple base, shading, and highlighting.


I knew that I wanted the color scheme to push the traditional dragon red or orange, so I played with purples and yellows for my highlights and lowlights.

I then started to texturize with my custom fur brushes (this was made in Gimp, by the way).

I really struggled with the wings and eyes.

Like, really struggled.

Thank god for textures, shading, and paitence! Notice added details in paws, nose, and tail.

And finally...

The change is pretty dramatic.

And a lot of major changes were involved.

Final thoughts?

Overall, investing in Rei was a lot of fun, but also a lot of hard work. I learned a lot, and am looking forward to more content where she can come out to play.

All content is original.

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