The remarkably patient dragonhealer led Daverin and Askabeth (though the dragon was cramped in the room) into a weyr with several charts and tapestries on the walls, each indicating anatomy, structure, flight patterns and most importantly, size comparisons.
"This is a normal Green, at a weyrling age. About a year old. Here is an adult. You see?"
"I see, but..."
Are you disappointed in me? I will not be a big strong brown?
"I had no idea what to expect, Askabeth, I'm not disappointed. I was just concerned!"
The dragonhealer seemed to have heard what the green dragon had said to her rider, which intrigued Daverin.
"So you hear all dragons?" She asked, and he nodded once.
"It gives me a much better understanding of their health. It's not just hearing when they speak, I can feel them when they're near. Like this one," he rubbed Askabeth's side, "she's itchy and hungry again."
"As always!" Daverin laughed.
"What's what?" The young rider asked her dragon. She felt a mental tug, like reins leading her into a direction.
What is that? There, on the sand? A little mound.
"It's a mound," Daverin repeated, with her half-assed smile spread across her mouth. But then she looked harder. "It's... a nest! It's a fire lizard nest!"
She dismounted from Askabeth and sloshed through the low tide all the way to the shore area where the pebble strewn sand was mixed by the tides. Just past the wet part of the sand, lay a largish mound of sand. It was not fresh, to say the least, but it seemed to have had some activity recently!
As if something had gone out of the mound, rather than digging it up!
Something had hatched! Daverin reached down and sure enough, most of the eggs had hatched already! There sure had been a lot of them, though. The shells were simply everywhere once she got through sifting through them.
She sat on her butt, and Askabeth did likewise, several meters away. The dragon tilted her green head and asked, why are you sad?
Because there are no more eggs left, they've all hatched, I think.
But I think you should look harder. I ... I feel something!
Daverin looked down, and then dug a little more. Down in the cooler packed sand, well below the other eggs and the pebbly sand which had been dumped atop them, there was something... Just beyond her reach.
"By Faranth's eggs, this little flitter buried her clutch deep!" Daverin felt something smooth, down there in the chilled sand. It wasn't even close to the warmth of the upper eggs, she wondered how it had gotten itself so deep! But Daverin took it out: it was hardened, that was sure. But how? Well, that wasn't as important as the fact that it was moving!
Suddenly Daverin lept up and ran to Askabeth's side. "Look Beth, it's hatching! It's hatching! Could you find a fish -- quickly!?" She begged the dragon but Askabeth had already provided: a squirming fish was produced from under the dragon's forepaw. "Oh, thank you Askabeth, you're the best!"
Thank you my rider! What do you think will happen now?
"We'll have to wait and see! Oh, this is exciting!" Daverin tore her hazel green eyes off the pale egg, to look at Askabeth's which were whirling many pleased shades of blue, sea and teal. "But not nearly as exciting as your hatching, my love!"
Then, the egg snapped open! It was almost like a nut shell, so hard that the flit inside had to really push and fight his way out! Both wings exploded out of the shell, quickly, followed by the tail furling out, and then finally the neck and head.
But Daverin -- as well as Askabeth -- stood looking at the small flit in awe: this was a white flitter! All pure white, a chalky whit like, well, like its shell!
"Quick, the fish!" Daverin reminded herself, and ripped off a part of the fish which Askabeth had caught. She fed the flitter, and then felt a little ping of both ravenous hunger and relief from the tiny creature!
What will you call him? Oh, he is adorable! Do you think we will fly together? He will definitely help us learn, will he not?
"Of course he will," Daverin said, in a cooing voice, as the small fire lizard settled down and gulped back another tiny piece of fish meat. "And his name is Chalky, he's that color, you remember when we play with the thread ropes covered in paint and chalk?"
I remember because you never forget! Chalky, he may sit on my shoulder like you do, if he likes.
"Oh, I think he'll be good on my shoulder, Askabeth, I fit right on yours, and he fits on mine!"
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