The Warmth of the Sun

Prologue: Parenthood

The sun had just peeked over the horizon to find a MudWing putting the finishing touches on what looked like a mud hut. Her eggs were already laid within; safe and warm. Four of these eggs rested cozily in the hut without fear of predators or other elements that would cause them harm. All they needed to do was hatch.

Not too far above, a RainWing watched the MudWing worked with his scales changing rapidly not knowing what to say, though there was much he wanted to say. The MudWing had did her best to ignore the multitude of colors flashing before her eyes, but then the sun came making such a task near impossible. "Would you just pick a color and stick with it? Preferably one that is less distracting." She says angrily, but also in a soft tone. "Also, why are you even here? Don't you have a sloth to pet, or an early morning nap you're missing?"

Clearly offended by what she said, the RainWing responds, "Ok, first of all: you know my ability to change colors is tied to my emotions. I can't always control that. Second: Pineapple will be fine if she doesn't see me for half a day. And third: can I not be worried for my own eggs? Is it wrong of me to think that it's a bad idea to leave them here in the dirt instead of doing literally anything else?"

"Why do you care?" the MudWing retorted, also feeling a bit offended. "Don't RainWing just lay their eggs in a nursery and let someone else deal with them?"

"At least they are being taken care of." Now the RainWing was off his branch and on equal ground with the MudWing. Ironically, the MudWing was bigger in both height and mass which, on any other day, would intimidate the RainWing. But on this day, he stood his ground. "I know your kind do things differently, and I respect that. But I know you better. Surely you care more for these unhatched dragonets then to just leave them unsecured."

The MudWing didn't move from her spot, but all tension in her muscles melted away with a sigh. Such an action seem to have shrunk her to a point where their eyes could meet. "What are you asking of me Foggy; to be a mother? All my life, I've never had a mother; only big brothers and sisters. Even if I wanted to, I don't know how to take care of dragonets much less my own. There is no one in my tribe who can teach me and I don't trust any other tribe to come and think they can."

Whatever edge that was in Foggy's voice was gone. He nuzzled his beloved in the neck to try and comfort her. "So why not let me take them to the nursery? I promise, good care will come to them."

"We talked about this." She said, pulling away from him. Even though the sun was shining on her, she still felt cold moving away from her RainWing. "MudWings are different when we hatch. When the BigWing hatches, they will do all they can to do the same for the other eggs around them. What if she move towards an egg that's not ready? No.... no it's better they be here. At least this way we have equal distance to reach them if we feel the need to check on them."

Foggy once again nuzzled her, this time under her wing. She jumped, only to realize that Foggy had that stupid smile on his face when he pranked her like that. She didn't smile at first, but her heart rose a bit. Plus, she couldn't be mad at him when he was trying to make her happy. She leaned close to him rapping her tail around his and her smile grew. Foggy looked into the mud hut counting the eggs again: one brown, one red, and two pale white. Who would have thought; a RainWing counting his eggs? He thought silently.

Then out loud, he said, "Hazel."

"What?"

"I think you would make a great mother." She didn't seem to believe that. "You're not like the MudWings you describe to me when it comes to their own eggs. You're different. Better, if I must say. It's what makes you great..... and it's why I love you."

For an instant, Hazel's heart didn't beat. "I thought you liked me because I didn't scare you when we meet."

"No, you are still plenty scary." They both laughed at the memory of that time. Such a story may not be told to these dragonets.

"Are we doing the right thing, Foggy?"

"You're asking the wrong dragon I'm afraid. This is all we can do."

A year would pass, and neither Hazel nor Foggy would return in that time. Whatever the reason, in the end nothing would have changed. For it was a year later, when the sun was at its highest, the mud hut was silent no longer at the sound of egg shells cracking starting with the brown egg.