"What young dragons seem to misunderstand is the value of the time they have." Cloudwhip, Stormcutter
-Hatchlinghood-
The succeeding four winters I can only describe as a blur. Every winter, unfortunately brought about the same routine. The sun would rise and set, and so too would we rise and set with it. I cannot help but feel… a little guilty that this rather important quadrisect of winters is simply just lost to the dusty back corner of my mind. I suppose most of that has to do with my brain still forming during this time, and as such my memories are only isolated to just very specific, sometimes strange parts of my hatchlinghood.
Shiverwing and I played games on an almost daily basis like usual. We'd even come up with a couple new games to play, some even involving our siblings. One of my personal favorites was a blend of hide 'n' seek and tag, which we called hide 'n' tag. Essentially, it's got the hiding and elimination aspect like hide 'n' seek, with the running and pursuing aspect of tag. That brought about endless fun, especially when we got Flameripper involved. He was particularly good at hiding, sometimes hiding in places so well concocted, it would have potentially been hours before we found him. Not only that but he's extremely agile, if a bit of a showoff, so more often than not we wouldn't be able to catch him unless we cornered him. Silvereye was especially good at seeking as she was just way too smart for any of our hiding spots, sometimes even Flameripper's. I believe something she does now is whenever she's in a new space with new dragons she hyperanalyzes the area so deeply she manages to find the fastest way to leave if something were to happen. Certainly has served her quite well!
Not so much a game as an ongoing friendly fight was related to a stick that had fallen out of a tree next to me. I brought it to Shiverwing under the guise of 'this just landed right next to me. It got quite close to my head.' However, he wasn't interested. So, I had the idea to secretly give it to him in his sleep. Under the cover of blackness, one late night, I walked to Shiverwing's den and dropped the stick next to him. He didn't say anything to me about it, but the next day he'd dropped it in my den while I was asleep. We continued to trade it back and forth, coming up with increasingly elaborate ways to sneak the stick into the other's possession. I remember one time, Shiverwing had managed to slip the stick into my paw while I was talking to him, and I didn't even notice it until I looked down. Needless to say, letting my imagination run as wild as it did as a hatchling beholds some of my most treasured memories.
Sometimes even our games would be as simple as just pretend. Shiver and I would come up with a story and just let our minds wander, not giving any mind to where the story was going, if it made sense, if it had plot holes, if it was a work of art or not, whether the story itself was even a good starter in the first place or not, or even if the story itself was an abomination of all dragonkind that should have never been allowed to exit the mind of any dragon young or old. None of that at all! We just had fun and let our minds roam free. As a young dragon, that's all you really care about.
There was naturally some fighting. Shiverwing and I were the rarest to fight mainly since he and I had enough distant respect and admiration for each other we wouldn't even dare to continue a fight if one started, but it did happen from time to time. Silverhorn and Silvereye would butt heads the most, in rather explosively aggressive ways. It was quite entertaining actually! The worst offender I'm sure they both will loathe me for including here at all was just a few days before Silverhorn's third Winterday. His was always the first Winterday we'd celebrate, but Silvereye didn't really like that. The entire lead up she had been getting more and more agitated about it until she eventually exploded and took Silverhorn into a wrestling match that rendered him, the general strongest of the entire group, even back then, victorious.
The more time went on, the more I was introduced to dragons from other salfs* around our nest. The spring after my second Winterday, I was introduced to an old friend of Logan's, or should I say old friends; a kin-twin head of orange coloring and yellow frills. They had a small hatchling of their own, not a few months younger than me, colored green with red frills. They and I turned out to be fairly compatible, even if they were a bit annoying and overly energetic at times. I learned the dragon's name, as confusing as this is, to be Riddle and Squeak. Kin-twin head dragons are often a very bizarre breed; it's technically two dragons that share a body. Their origin story is fascinating, so fascinating I had once written something out for that story and realised it was four times longer than the rest of this chapter. As such, we shall move on.
That kin-twin head became something of a secondary sire figure to me. The amount of time Logan would spend away for whatever he found himself tangled up in, to this day I'm not sure what, and subsequent time I'd spend with this kin-twin head, whose names were Reagan and Justin, brought them and I closer together. He was also the first choice hatchling-sitter for us when both Logan and Rachel were absent; only twice do I recall a different dragon being in the authoritative position. Even to this day, in his old age and my hardened, matured psyche, we speak from time to time. Quite a polite pair too! Although, it's clear that they cannot stand each other's presence sometimes. I guess living your entire life physically attached to the same body with another dragon with a different brain would yield rather unfavorable views betwixt the two.
I know I kind of skimmed over these four winters, but again, it's all just a blur. There are very few stories I can tell about them; the only memories I have are bits and pieces of various games I'd play with Shiver, uninteresting mealtimes for some bizarre reason, I even have a memory of just standing in a field for twenty-five minutes, looking upon the endless sea of grass before me. That's the caliber of memories I have. It just wasn't all that interesting. Needless to say, my hatchlinghood was rather a footnote in my life overall. Or at least, four winter's worth of it. After all, hatchlinghood isn't technically over until the dragon has lived through thirteen winters. However, I consider the first four winters of my life to be the full extent of my hatchling hood. Beyond this point begins the road that hardened me by battles too painful to process. Sadly, I lost all my hatchlinghood from a very early age. And it all began when I learned to fly…
*Worth noting that a dragon 'salf' isn't the same as a human salf. It's more like a small community where dragons have just taken various spots as a den. In some ways, it functions the same as a human salf, but visually it's nowhere near the same! ~Jimmy
