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Roro the Dragon! 
Roro the baby four foot dragon was laying about in his stall, secretly laughing a dragon laugh to himself. The louder the people outside the barn became, the less likely he was to actually wander out there and see them. Dragons, as wild creatures, could not and would not 'come when called.' They were not simple-minded crups, after all.
So in his stall Roro stayed, closing his lazy dragon eyes... lazily.
Just as he was drifting off into a little dragon nap, the smell of something nommy caught the attention of his little dragon nostrils, and he just had to poke his nose out of his stall.
FOOD! Food food food food foodstuffs! "Eorrrrk?" Roro called out softly, thumping his tail a bit. Was it REAL FOOD SMELLS or was it just his overactive imagynation? "EEE....ee.....eork?" He shuffled out of his stall and stretched his scaly neck out toward the studentsies and foodsies.
OH FOODSIES. Roro recognized those buckets! He thumped his tail harder and waddled toward them, gaining speed the closer he got to the buckets. He spied the students a moment too late, however, and put on the brakes, skidding to an abrupt, wide-eyed, sideways halt about six inches away from the nearest hay bale.
PEOPLE. Gosh. Lots of little people.
O_______O
It worked? Mordred frowned when the dragon suddenly thumped its tail and shuffled out of his stall.
The boy’s eyes widened and stood up from his seat and retreated a bit from the baby dragon who was now rushing forward. The professor said to keep calm right?
“Keep your cool Mordaunt. The professor won’t let Roro eat anybody.” He told himself as he wiggled his left arm to loosen his wand from its holster under his sleeve—just to be sure. Realizing that he was about to crash in one of the hay bales, the dragon stopped running and slid on the floor sideways, looking as shocked as the boy.
O_____O
Blink. Blink.