Post by dragoncharm on Nov 1, 2009 15:18:58 GMT -6
Unless Emberyth had been eating way too many herdbeasts recently, it was pretty obvious that she was a clutching dragon. She was egg-heavy - there was little doubt now. Azelle didn't know how long it'd take her to lay them, or how many there were, or what they'd be like. But the biggest question was: Would they be Wrathcursed?
She didn't know. Nobody knew. Now, finally, the Ashrider was aware of just what her dragon was, but what that meant remained to be seen. It was a lot to think about, a lot to decide - though Azelle really didn't know why she had to decide anything. She just got the sense that she did.
It was an overcast day when Emberyth flew down to the Hatching Sands, the promise of rain lingering in the air. It all fell on deaf senses though: the Ash was concentrating on etting to the Sands before it hurt any more than it did now. It hurt, but she was happy. The pain meant that it was time. Her babies would be here. She didn't care what they looked like or what gender they were; they were hers and she was delighted to have them.
Azelle came dashing down in th middle of the process, having dashed up from where she'd been lunching in the Lower Caverns. No words were exhanged between the pair: Emberyth worked and Azelle watched.
It was over soon. The great black dragon had already curled up around her beauties protectively, so much so that her tail was practicaly close enough to her head for her to bite it. The Ashrider did not ask her dragon to unfurl herself; instead, she asked, How many? The answer came: five. Five beautiful, strong, healthy eggs. Azelle shared her dragon's joy - the Ash was a mother now.
Five eggs. Five baby dragons, waiting and growing. Wht would become of them?
Emberyth caleld to Astrafith, eager to share th egood news.
((I APOLOGIZE FOR FAIl! Museless.))
She didn't know. Nobody knew. Now, finally, the Ashrider was aware of just what her dragon was, but what that meant remained to be seen. It was a lot to think about, a lot to decide - though Azelle really didn't know why she had to decide anything. She just got the sense that she did.
It was an overcast day when Emberyth flew down to the Hatching Sands, the promise of rain lingering in the air. It all fell on deaf senses though: the Ash was concentrating on etting to the Sands before it hurt any more than it did now. It hurt, but she was happy. The pain meant that it was time. Her babies would be here. She didn't care what they looked like or what gender they were; they were hers and she was delighted to have them.
Azelle came dashing down in th middle of the process, having dashed up from where she'd been lunching in the Lower Caverns. No words were exhanged between the pair: Emberyth worked and Azelle watched.
It was over soon. The great black dragon had already curled up around her beauties protectively, so much so that her tail was practicaly close enough to her head for her to bite it. The Ashrider did not ask her dragon to unfurl herself; instead, she asked, How many? The answer came: five. Five beautiful, strong, healthy eggs. Azelle shared her dragon's joy - the Ash was a mother now.
Five eggs. Five baby dragons, waiting and growing. Wht would become of them?
Emberyth caleld to Astrafith, eager to share th egood news.
((I APOLOGIZE FOR FAIl! Museless.))