"Hello?" Tytula asked into the phone. "Who is this?" Even as she asked this, she knew there was only one person that would call her down here.
"Who do you think?" asked a smug voice.
"Dwahro!" Tytula squealed, her night-vision goggles sliding down her nose as she jumped up and down. "Good news?"
"Very good," Dwahro replied. Tytula heard the sound of a chair reclining in the background as Dwahro continued. "You and two others are currently on the board to receive one of Lefati and Corres's babies." Dwahro calmly held the phone away from his ear as Tytula shrieked with delight.
"Really?" she cried. "Really? Oh, Dwahro, thank you so much!" Tytula took a deep breath, shook her wild black hair out of her face, and continued. "When will I receive him? Or is it a her?"
"I do not know," Dwahro said. "The clutch, as you might know, has not hatched yet. We are hoping to have two more offerings before our little Drakkins come into the world. But I will tell you when the hatching occurs, Tytula. If there is a green, black, or red, you will be the one to get it. Do not worry."
"Thanks again!" Tytula said happily. "Tell Lefati I said hello."
"I will," Dwahro replied. "I commend you on your efforts and success in purchasing a Drakkin." He hung up.
Tytula put the phone down, and sat down slowly. The news she had just gotten rung in her mind. She was getting a Drakkin! She stood up, and began to make preparations for her baby's arrival.
* * *
Tytula stood there, waiting in complete darkness. Dwahro would present the hatchlings to their respective trainers any minute now, and everyone was getting restless. Along with Tytula, Aprismal, Astaire, Killashandra DeKrys, and Gabrin were waiting to receive their new charges.
Tytula began to sweat with nerves. What if her Drakkin hated her? What if her Drakkin hated everybody? What if....
Suddenly, a hush fell over the room. Dwahro had stepped onto a small wooden platform in the center of the room. Tytula noticed with a happy jolt that a red-green-gold Lesthpoldian DragonStone was set in his golden belt. In fact, that was the only spot of color on him. He was wearing beautiful black clothing in honor of the occasion.
Five tiny creatures were darting around Dwahro's feet, biting and jumping. Two caught Tytula's attention at first. A black and a purple were viciously at each other's throats. Thank goodness they would soon be separated.
Then, she saw the green. The little baby looked just like Lefati, but smaller. It sat somewhat calmly at Dwahro's side, looking around with keen interest. It crouched down, and pounced at some unknown thing, pretending to catch it and bite it. Then it stood up, yawned, and sat down again. Tytula giggled. She definitely knew what hatchling she wanted to care for.
Her attention snapped back to Dwahro when he began to speak to them.
"Welcome," he said. "Since you all know your offers had been accepted and all hatchlings have survived, there really isn't a reason for me to give a speech. Drama isn't my style, and I doubt that most of you would appreciate it anyway. So. I'll reward the hatchlings in the order that you applied. It makes records easier to keep. Be ready for them."
With that, the presentation started. Tytula gulped, crossing her fingers that the green would be hers. Dwahro nudged Aprismal's Drakkin, the smug bronze, forward with his foot. The Drakkin glared at Dwahro, annoyed, but strutted over to Aprismal nonetheless. Aprismal tried desperately to lift his baby, but the Drakkins were apparently heavier than they looked.
Next, the blue was selected. It was gnawing viciously on Dwahro's shoe. Its chew toy was sharply taken away from it, and it was nudged over to Astaire.
"I'd recommend several durable chew toys for that one," he muttered, checking his boot for nonexistent damage. "Durable ones."
Tytula bit her lip, gazing at the green. It was her turn. She stepped up to Dwahro, trembling. The breeder bend slowly down, and lifted...the green. He held it carefully in his hands, while it nervously butted his arm with its tiny horns. Its tail swung back and forth as Dwahro handed the little joy-bundle to Tytula.
Carefully directing the spiked tail's path away from her hips, Tytula suppressed the urge to hug Dwahro as she thanked him earnestly.
"I remembered your admiration of Lefati's coloring," he said dryly. "When one of her less-unmanageable sons turned out the same color, I knew he was yours. Besides, the DragonStones were quite an impressive gift, and the supplies were much-needed at the time."
"Th-th-thank you," Tytula said happily. "I appreciate...everything!"
Dwahro calmly nodded Tytula back to her seat, and she skipped down again. Killashandra DeKrys raised an eyebrow, and Aprismal snorted, but Tytula didn't care. She sat down, and the baby curled up in her lap. She was absolutely enchanted, until he started chewing on her pack.
"No, no, no," Tytula crooned. "Not for chewing." The Drakkin looked up at her with big, innocent eyes, and took to chewing on the chair leg. Tytula sighed happily, and continued to watch the presentations.
Killashandra was walking down from the stage, the black hatchling on her shoulders. She was a Drow renegade from the far-off city of Shar'Nezaad, and Tytula knew that she and her Drakkin would be a skilled pair in any Arena.
Gabrin was grinning, knowing which hatchling he would get. He happily walked up to accept the baby, but Tytula was surprised when it lunged at him! She was even more surprised when the man deflected the attack like it was nothing. He carefully subdued the youngling, and picked it up in his arms. Tytula could see why Dwahro had given him such a powerful, hyper Drakkin.
"Well, there you are," the Drow lord said with satisfaction. "The little monsters are no longer my responsibility. Train them well and they may well prove to be a sound investment."
Tytula carefully lifted the youngster onto her shoulders, still wary of the powerful tail. Dwahro continued shortly.
"Before you leave, be sure to collect the small packages awaiting you at the door," he continued. "They contain several species of subterranean insects that do well in the conditions that Drakkin prefer. They will provide your hatchlings with hours of amusement and a ready source of snacks, as they breed quite rapidly. I look forward to seeing you - and your treasures - in this city again someday."
Tytula couldn't help but smile at the up-front nature of the breeder. She called out a heartfelt thank-you one last time before walking out to the entrance, Drakkin on her shoulders.
