Message in a Bottle

Dear whoever is reading this,

I know. It's a bit cliche.
A message in a bottle
scribbled on heavy parchment and rolled up tightly
held by a wax signet seal.
Oh, maybe not then?
Huh, I wonder what kind you're used to getting...

But no matter!
Petty distractions!
This dry and inane chatter isn't why I've reached out.
I have a favor to ask.

Now, before you wonder,
no it's nothing to do with blood sacrifices,
first-born children or virgins,
or even a plea for freedom.
I'm actually very happy where I am.

No, what I need you to do
is feed my dragon.

Yes
the tiny little scaled thing that just crawled out of the bottle.

They won't hurt you.
As long as you find them something meaty soon
like a chicken or a wolf pup.
Anything around that size with lots of protein would do.

Why don't I feed them, you ask?
Sadly my new isolated abode is severely lacking in tasty dragon treats.
That's what happens with deserted islands, I supposed.
You trade away certain freedoms and food varieties for peace and quiet.
So I have to ask for outside assistance.

But once you've fed them
they'll climb back into the bottle without a fuss,
curl their tail around their nose
and blink back to me.

In their place you'll find a pile of coins
and a coupon for all-you-can-eat mutton at the Sheepshead Bistro next door.
Thanks again for your help!

P.S. My dragon really likes you now.
I'll have to send them to you more often!
What does one normally charge for dragon baby-sitting?

P.P.S. Actually, you might want to reconsider the mutton.
Trust me, you don't want to know why.