Spyro's chest filled with pride when he saw the egg Cynder had laid. This was his egg. Her egg. THEIR egg.

'Cynder, I wonder if this is how my father felt when he saw my egg.'

'He's proud of you. I know he is.'

'Yeah. So how'd it feel?'

'Like someone was trying to cut my (beep) open with a (beep).'

Spyro blushed.

'Cynder, what colorful language you have.'

'All the better to embarrass you with my dear.'

They shared a chuckle.

They continued to talk until Cynder had to leave.

(Time Change... Time to Freedom... 30 Months...)

Winter was on its way. The temperature was starting to drop.

Cynder put a paw on the egg. It was a bit chilly.

She curled up around it. Warming it with her own body heat.

She sighed.

She couldn't wait to hold her baby for the first time.

Taptaptap.

She perked up.

The sound was coming from the egg,

Taptaptap.

It was alive.

Taptapcrack!

A large crack appeared on the egg.

Her heart skipped a beat.

'Come on. You can do it.'

She wanted to help, but instincts told her, no, COMMANDED, her not to.

Cracktapcrack!

A small piece popped off.

She saw a flash of crimson scales.

Her child.

A small forepaw punched through the hole.

It flexed a bit, then retreated back into the egg.

Then it stopped.

Cynder eventually decided to look closer at the egg.

She put her eye just above the hole.

CRASH!

'WHOAH!'

The baby Dragon had headbutted the opening.

Squeak.

Cynder recovered from her shock, and looked on in pride.

Her first baby. She was a mother.

(You already know what he looks like)

Spyro's visit was scheduled for tomorrow. She could show Spyro his son.

(Time Change... The Next Day...)

'Hi Cynder, How's my baby? Oh and how's the egg?'

'I'm doing fine, but the egg is gone.'

'... What?'

'Look.'

Cynder grabs the whelp from under the table and lifted him up.

'Oh my... He's just like Ignitus.'

'My thoughts exactly. Sooooooo, I decided to name him, Ignitus.'

'He's perfect. Hi little Ignitus.'

Squeak.

'He can't see or hear yet, but soon he will.'

The whelp started to squirm. He wanted to be put down.

Cynder gently set him down and resumed her talk.

'When did he hatch?'

'Last night.'

'What time?'

'Just after midnight.'

'So he was born today, on the Winter Solstice.'

'Yeah, ironic for a Fire Dragon isn't it?'

They share a chuckle.

'Time to go.'

'Bye Spyro.'

'Bye Cynder, bye Ignitus.'

As Cynder was walking back, she decided that, one way or another, her baby would not spend the first few years of its life in this place. Her little Ignitus would be free. No matter the cost.