With wide eyes and exceedingly slow, deliberate movements, Dreamer nestled the egg close to his chest. His foreleg curled around it and the soft dirt of the den cushioned it a little, warm, protected, safe.

Fleeting and Wanderer watched intently, unconcerned but vigilant nonetheless. Dreamer didn't blame them in the slightest. Eggs were fragile, perhaps not as fragile as they seemed but all it would take would be to roll the wrong way…

He rumbled to himself, relaxing and settling down, shifting onto his side a little. This wasn't so bad, it was more in front of him than beside him so he'd have to forget about it entirely to accidentally roll onto it, and that was something that was not going to happen. It helped that he'd watched Fleeting, so it wasn't as if he had no idea how to sit it.

Wanderer and Fleeting relaxed as he began purring, then nuzzled him and each other. "We not will be much time," Fleeting hummed, licking Dreamer's head, and then she and Wanderer padded out of the den.

She trusted him with her egg… Their egg. The dry scent of the shell wafted to his nose, smelling of Fleeting, but he suspected that was only because she had laid it and sat with it. Even if it carried the scent of the sire and dam, there was no way of knowing whether it was his or Wanderer's as they shared the same body, the same scent. Not that it mattered in the slightest. It was his as much as theirs, and they were all equally responsible.

He pressed his snout to it, letting his warm breath billow over the hard shell. You will have a better life than I did. Surrounded by warmth and love, nurtured and cared for, protected by three of the most experienced and powerful dragons in the world. He or she wouldn't grow up on a war-stricken island, wouldn't need to fight just to survive. They would be taught how to fight, of course, that was just common sense, but hopefully they wouldn't need to know.

They wouldn't have any other fledglings to play with, which was a bit sad. Perhaps some of the other Nightstriker nests could be contacted, but none had responded to calls so far, and Fleeting hadn't had any luck either. It still was unclear what was causing that, but it was no huge loss, they would have much love and playing here at home. He held a small hope that the egg would hatch male, he'd feel more confident interacting and playing with them then, given that his experience as a young Nightstriker had not involved females at all. He did want a daughter eventually, but he felt he'd have an easier time raising a son first, would find them more relatable.

Huff, getting ahead of myself. That was months away. He tucked his head around the egg and carefully adjusted his shoulders, getting comfortable. His sleep last light had been broken and brief, but regardless there was nothing to do other than just lie there and wonder. He didn't remember much about being a hatchling, but to think this little lump would hatch into a tiny little Nightstriker…

That felt so impossible, so distant. But he still had two months to come to terms with it. For now, he was just content to doze, the warm little spark of life nestled comfortably to his chest.

Wanderer stared at the smooth, dark object lying innocuously in the dirt in front of him, feeling anxious and uncertain. "I not want try sleeping with this," he said, then firmly planted his paws to stop himself stumbling into it when Dreamer nudged him forwards.

"Not all light," Fleeting hummed, nuzzling the side of his face. "Only while Dreamer hunts. I will sleep better if you give it your scent." Both he and Dreamer turned to look at her, and she huffed. "You have different scents. Maybe only small difference, but that not matter. I will feel better knowing you lay with it."

"I not will be much long," Dreamer hummed. "Just want stretch my wings, hunt something. Maybe roll in snow." He grinned as Fleeting shuddered uncomfortably. "Not be scared. Sitting with egg is easy."

"I not scared," Wanderer growled, walking around to the other side of it; the ground was warm under his paws here, where Dreamer had been lying. "I just thought you wanted me have it all light." He would, in the future, but he was already fighting back yawns for the little sleep he'd had last light.

He carefully lay down before hooking a paw around the precious egg and pulling it closer to himself. It was heavier than he'd expected, and felt firm and strong, but he was all too aware of how little effort it would take to break it. Still, he found that it comfortably fit into a warm embrace between his foreleg and chest, with space to curl his neck around it for when he wanted to settle down.

Seeing he was getting comfortable, Dreamer chuffed happily and bounded out of the den, apparently eager for his hunt. Wanderer watched him go, purring quietly at how far he had come from the nervous, anxious little Nightstriker he had started out as. Gone were the nights he couldn't even play-fight, instead just baring his neck to get it over with…

"You look like sire already," Fleeting purred, settling down in front of him and nuzzling under his chin.

"Maybe," Wanderer chuckled, then sighed happily and rested his head on hers as her snout affectionately brushed his throat. "I needed teach Dreamer much… Not did enough, I know, but I was fledgling also." His paw curled a little more firmly around the egg against his chest. "I will do better with this one."

"You not do bad with Dreamer," she hummed warmly, then lay down and stared at the egg, her snout brushing the back of his paw. "I still… not can believe… I remember Dam teaching me how hunt, how chase males, but thinking I will be Dam…" She whined quietly, curling up a little on the ground. "I miss them… They would be very happy, seeing this…"

"I miss mine also," Wanderer quietly keened with her, reaching out with his other paw to touch to hers.

Nothing more needed saying, they understood each other perfectly. Given how long she had likely searched, she had to have given up hope, particularly to have flown so far away when she had said she'd wanted to stay nearby. Neither of them would be seeing their parents again. It was a pain he did not share with Dreamer, who suffered in a very different way and could not understand the depth of that loss. That was far worse, in Wanderer's opinion, but the loss still hurt more than words could describe. But it was comforting, in a way, to grieve with someone who understood that, and they shared a long mournful moment to recognise each other's grief, and quietly acknowledge their own.

One night, when they were not sitting an egg, he wanted to fly with her to the top of the mountain and just talk about them. Share stories about being cheeky fledglings and getting swatted, of playing, laughing together, their first hunts. Talking to Dreamer about it was painful, because he did not understand… but Fleeting understood. And maybe one night he would be able to talk more openly with Dreamer; being a sire himself would likely give him some of the perspective he lacked.

After a time, he sighed and pressed his nose to the egg. "This is good," he hummed, his voice a little scratchy. "We all were hurt. But we all want protect this one from that hurt." He deeply exhaled, feeling his warm breath blow back at him off the egg and brush over his foreleg. "I think, maybe… we might hurt less also. Make new good memories. Give to them what we know." Pass on the good memories given to them by their parents.

"Yes, that will be good," she purred quietly, shuffling around him to drape a wing over his back and then lightly licking his shoulder.

Before much time passed, Dreamer came bounding back into the den. "Is cold out there!" he barked gleefully, then vigorously shook himself. "Lake was cold also, mrrr, but warm in here." His gaze went to Wanderer, lowered to the egg, and settled on Fleeting.

Warning, she growled at him, but he just huffed playfully and splayed his paws a little. "No," she growled, rising to her paws and hopping over Wanderer as Dreamer prowled around the den. "Not give me your cold! You jumped in river, so you can stay cold!" She retreated as Dreamer hopped over Wanderer, chasing her increasingly quickly, until they were racing around the den with Wanderer lying to one side with the egg.

Wanderer purred to himself as he watched them, Fleeting desperately fleeing and Dreamer pretending to be cold – he did smell of the lake, but he didn't smell cold, at least no colder than for having been outside. As nice as it was to have someone understand him, it was also good to have someone to warm their hearts afterwards.

There was no risk to the egg with their antics, they were taking great care not to so much as touch Wanderer even as they ran around and jumped over him, and he had complete trust in them. Though when Dreamer pounced her and they started wrestling, it was on the other side of the den, which was considerate.

"Why you not are cold!?" Fleeting growled as she heaved Dreamer off herself.

Dreamer then yelped as she pounced and bit him. "I not said I was cold," he growled back, twisting out of her pin, and she yelped as he bit her back. "Huff. If you not want my warm, I not will give to you." He then stood and trotted over to Wanderer, settled down next to him, and put a wing over his back. Wanderer purred amusement, comfort, settling down around the egg; he almost wouldn't mind sleeping with it now, it was already quite comfortable to lie like this, and he knew he wouldn't forget about it and start fidgeting.

Apologetic, Fleeting whined, slinking over and trying to nose her way under Dreamer's wing. He didn't relent until she offered him some tender nuzzles and licks, only then did he shuffle over to let her in between himself and Wanderer as she preferred, and she wriggled her way in. After somehow managing to turn around in the narrow space, she reached out with a paw for the egg.

Wanderer almost didn't want her to take it – now that he was sitting with it, he was feeling very protective – but something told him that getting between a dam and her egg was not a smart thing to do, so he allowed her to scoop it over to nestle against her chest.

At least she didn't protest him snuggling up to her this time. And while the cold-season might induce lethargy, he had a feeling that by the time the snow melted he'd be holding it long enough for its charm to wear off.

Warm and comfortable… The sounds of wing-prey calling out in the distance… Cradling a hard, familiar presence…

Wait… Dreamer cracked an eye open to find his foreleg wrapped around the egg, holding it to his cheek. He hadn't gone to sleep with it, Fleeting was quite possessive and this had not been one of the few lights she wanted a break to stretch and roll as much as she wanted. He couldn't smell her nearby, her scent wasn't fresh, but Wanderer was curled up against him.

Wrrr, whatever. He tucked it a little closer and curled up a little, more than familiar with it by now for having slept and dozed with it pawfuls of times. They all had, for as much as it was a wonderful, heart-warming duty, it was dreadfully boring, requiring one of them to lie still with it at all times. But it was nice that two of them could go do something outside.

He purred to himself, idly imagining the little Nightstriker growing inside the tough shell, wondering what they were, what they would be. He hoped they would be curious and intelligent, that he could teach them what he knew and engage with them on a level he could not with Wanderer or Fleeting.

The thoughts were vivid and incoherent while he dozed, he was actually convinced it had been reality for a few moments after he was worn by an eager, excited bark. "What?" he asked, pawing at his face, then yawned widely.

"Snow is melting!" Fleeting crooned excitedly, scurrying into the den with her tail flicking playfully. Now that she mentioned it, the air smelled wet and heavy, still cold but not quite freezing.

Wanderer groaned and rolled onto his side to paw lethargically at them, clearly intending on sleeping more. Dreamer looked between him and Fleeting, who watched him with wide, hopeful eyes, then yawned again and took the egg in his mouth. With it securely locked in behind his teeth, he carefully stood, walked around to Wanderer, and grunted promptingly. Wanderer cracked an eye, then shifted a little to accept the egg and hold it against his neck, instantly dozing off again.

Freed of his burden, Dreamer shook himself off and purred as Fleeting ducked under his wing and rubbed against his side, then followed her out into the early night. The sky was startlingly clear, and his breath misted into a billowing cloud as he exhaled in awe. The tapestry of sky-sparks glistened unfathomably far above, spreading across the entirety of the night sky… what he could see of it.

He realised he had trotted to a stop, and his gaze fell to Fleeting. Her ears and frills immediately perked, she eagerly spread her wings, and then they were flying, rising into the night. Dreamer pumped his wings for lift, heedless of the cold-season lethargy in his impatience to clear the mountain and emerge into open sky…

His breath left him as he beheld the entirety of the night, in all its majesty. The snow was indeed melting below, receding in small patches to reveal the forests, plains, and pools beneath. Around the Long-Paw village he could also see trodden paths and certain areas that had been cleared for some reason or another. It all gave stark contrast to the bright white blanket, reflecting the light from above. A sliver of sky-ice barely contributed to it, but he appreciated its presence nonetheless.

Fleeting's wing tenderly slipped under his, and a peculiar effect of the wind drew the membranes together. He could feel where the fingers in her wing overlapped his while they glided, how she experimentally flexed them, where the wind brushed off the back of her wing and down the bottom of his.

It was all… so much. Dreamer's head spun, as if unable to comprehend his own sheer happiness and joy. This was what it meant to be a Nightstriker, a beautiful mate with whom to enjoy a beautiful night, an egg waiting to hatch back in their warm, cozy den with the rest of his family, all full of love and care.

Fleeting was watching with as much awe and amazement, her gaze drifting around the night sky, until she turned to Dreamer. "You are good?" she crooned, her voice tinged with concern.

"Yes," he replied with a small sniffle. "I just am… very happy…" It was very possible that he had never before been as happy as in this moment, and with the anticipation of more good times to come with the hatching of their egg.

Agreement, she hummed, gaze drifting around the night again. "I was alone for much time. Thought I might never see another Nightstriker. Almost hunt some in their territory… just so I could see them. So I know I not alone. Now…"

Dreamer hummed his assent; he fully understood antagonising others, doing whatever he could just so they would look at him, to convince himself that he really existed. "Now you have so much it not seem real," he finished for her, and she purred heartily. "Not should think too much on bad times. Live! Have fun!" He angled away, shuddering as his wing brushed off hers, the wind cold against the bottom of the membrane where she had been pressed against him.

He fell into a glide down the mountain, lazily weaving through the rocky outcrops and just generally enjoying the flight while keeping it calm and efficient. Fleeting barked happily, lazily weaving around him with small flourishes and rolls, her sound-sight picking up as they gained speed. Dreamer had fallen out of the habit himself, but there weren't any Long-Paws within their territory on this side of the mountain to hear it, so he flicked out his own sub-wings to echo the rising shriek.

They had quite a lot of speed by the time they levelled off above the trees, hurtling across forests and fields that flashed past below. Dreamer joined in on her lazy aerobatics, just enjoying the night and stretching his wings; it did make him look forward to having more prey, so they could fly more recklessly, but this was a beautiful night to take it easy.

After bleeding out their momentum in a wide lap around their territory, they drifted down towards the river, near where it met the lake. Dreamer touched down gently, his paws sinking into the slushy snow, which he then brushed into the modest trickle of water to clear a space to drink from.

This water certainly did not come from snowmelt, as it had been more or less present throughout the winter, but nor did it come from the lake. Even when the lake had been filled with snow, the river had never completely disappeared. He was beginning to think it was some sort of spring, which would explain the scent and taste of it, but it seemed to have no one source. Maybe it just trickled out of cracks in the rocks.

Whatever the case, it was very convenient. He licked the chill water from his snout, the wetness bitingly cold in the breeze, then eyed Fleeting mischievously. "You want warm under my wing?" he offered, lifting the large appendage. Suspicion, she churred at him, edging away. He edged closer, awkwardly sidling up to her, but she kept backing up, keeping her distance. "You not want be warm?" he asked probingly.

"I want be warm," she growled distrustfully, eyeing his wing. "But we should hunt…" She looked out towards the forest, her ears folding back.

"You not like hunting in snow," Dreamer chuffed, trotting around her. "I give you thing for look forward to." She looked at him quizzically – he'd mashed up another Long-Paw phrase in Dragonese again – but that just made it easier to pounce her!

His claws slid from her flanks as she immediately bolted, and then they were racing through the ghostly trees. "You will make me cold!" she shrieked over her shoulder, and Dreamer roared playfully as he pounced again only to slip through the wet snow when she leapt aside.

She had genuine reason to flee, and it showed in her frantic leaps and bounds. He still held little to no remorse as he swatted her tail, throwing her slightly off-balance, then mercilessly tackled her. She shrieked again as they tumbled and slid through the slush, the cold biting into Dreamer's wing and side as they came to a halt.

He was laughing too hard to keep hold of her – she was also generally getting better at escaping – and barely stopped to yelp when she jumped on him and sank her teeth into his foreleg, pushing him back into the snow himself. "I not even can feel your teeth," he wheezed breathlessly as he weakly pawed at her, unable to control his laughter. His hide was too cold and numb to feel her wrath, however much she bit and swatted him – until she firmly bit him high up his hindleg, he somehow found some breath to yelp at that.

"Now I too cold!" she growled shakily as she tremored from nose to tail. "I thought I had kind, caring mates, but you are cold, also cold-making!"

"I will warm you later," he wheezed from his back. He had sunk into the snow a little, but now it was melting and pooling, the icy wetness sapping the heat from him far more quickly and forcing him to climb to his paws.

Fleeting huffed at him, then skipped away as he shook himself. "Maybe I will let my kind, warm mate warm me," she said haughtily, turning her nose up and trotting away.

"Yes!" Dreamer chuffed happily as he leapt to catch up. "He can warm you while your freezing-cold mate sits with egg." He nuzzled up against her side, tilting himself a little to press his wet back against her, and she hopped away with a yelp before growling aggravation.

She was annoyed at him now, but that was fine, and he trotted along happily while they searched for prey-trails together. When they returned to the den he would flame the ground and they would huddle close together to warm each other, and she would forgive him. It was all part of the game they played, something with which to bring a little more warmth to the dreary cold-season.

Two fish fell from Wanderer's mouth to the floor of the den with a wet slap, and Dreamer eagerly snatched them up and hastily snapped them down. Two fish deposited by Fleeting met a similar fate.

Dreamer purred deeply, stretching out on his side with the egg nestled between his foreleg and neck. "I not remember when I last was this full," he groaned, then purred as Fleeting nuzzled him appreciatively.

"Not worry," Wanderer hummed, "we will leave some for you." Dreamer growled and awkwardly waved a wing at him, not quite able to reach with the angle he was at.

Impatience, Fleeting barked, and Wanderer chuffed before leaping out of the den with her. The muted rush of water suddenly became prominent again as he emerged into the night, water surging down between the many rocks and little hills around the den which all faded into a general roar as he leapt into the air and recklessly beat his wings. He was eager to finally fill his belly again after another cold-season of living mostly on small-land-prey, to once again fly and frolic and fight to his heart's content.

He didn't even bother landing, just swooped down to snatch a fish from the swarms jumping their way up the bloated river. He savoured the feeling of his teeth shearing through bones and flesh, of feeling the meat slide down his throat to quell the immediate ache in his stomach; though it did little for the hunger gripping him, a burning heat fanned by the heavy scent of fish on the cold air.

But before he could swoop down and snatch another, the tail of a fish – only the tail – whizzed down by the side of his head. He watched it as it fluttered down to the torrents of water below, then looked up to see Fleeting laughing and rolling playfully in the air. He winged up towards her, and chased her as she fled down towards the water below, weaving around the jumping fish and snatching another from the air as they flew.

Wanderer was enjoying the moment too much to just immediately stuff himself silly; if he did that he wouldn't want or be able to fly with his mate. He was sated for the moment, and could finally do as much as he wanted without needing to consider the long hunt after, so when Fleeting swooped into the forest he was right behind her. They ducked and wove between the bare trees, thin branches occasionally snapping to their wings in their reckless flight while the immense volume of water flooded the ground, teeming with fish even here.

She slowed into a landing by a little waterfall, only a body-length high. Apparently she had the same idea Wanderer did, because although she approached it hesitantly, she briefly ducked under the chill torrent to ruffle her wings and soak herself before leaping out. Wanderer just stood under it, flaring his wings against the weight of the downpour and leaning back to let it wash over him. It felt as if a deep musk and heavy grit was being scoured from his hide, resetting his scent, refreshing him. It tasted good too, when he opened his mouth to it.

He shivered a little and leapt out from under the falling water, then vigorously shook himself. Fleeting growled, glancing at him from where she lay on her back to run her tongue along her hindleg, her whole hide gleaming…

Apologetic, he purred, padding over to help her with her cleaning. But before he could start, she stood and leaned into him, rubbing her slick hide against his chest with a deep purr. Her back gave way to her tail, and a sigh escaped him as the length of it rubbed against his neck, her tail-fins brushing his face and leaving him leaning towards her, hungry for more contact.

Her long, sleek tail kept going up to arch over her back while she lowered her chest to the ground to stretch, shooting him a sultry glance under her wing. His body was drawn forwards of its own accord, lured by her intoxicating feminine scent, now so crisp and clean… And then her tail was brushing over his head while she slowly sauntered away, still looking back at him with a gaze that was as alluring and inviting as her scent.

"But it not egg-making season," he blurted out. She tilted her head a little, frills twitching with amusement, before leaping over a little stream and gracefully bounding off through the pale trees.

He stared after her for a moment, trying to figure out if he'd misinterpreted something – but then thinking back, beyond his time at the warm-nest and other kinds of wing-hunters there, to when he had been a fledgling in a family of Nightstrikers…

An eager growl tore itself from him as he leaped after her.

The egg had been a surprise, a joy, when it first arrived. But Dreamer had to admit that it was also a nuisance at times, perpetually tying one of them up in keeping it warm. He'd had thoughts of partially burying it, with or without fire, but there was no way of knowing if the temperature was suitable, and whatever the case he simply couldn't stand the thought of leaving it on its own; it was far too precious for the slightest risk.

Still, his resolve was tested when their hides began to itch, growing numb and unfeeling. He had tried to hold it off when Wanderer and Fleeting began to shed, to stagger it so they could have someone sitting the egg, but it wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. He could almost feel his hide slowly splitting down his back, parting from the layer beneath it, but he could definitely feel it tearing every time he writhed in his discomfort. He couldn't just roll over and rub it against the ground, or stretch and flex, or anything, not without a small but unacceptable risk to the precious and fragile egg. After doing what little he could reach, all he could do was make a game of how many heartbeats he could lie perfectly still; about thirty was his average before the hide on his back started twitching, but he'd almost made it to sixty once. He had his tail to the tangle of claws and teeth going on behind him, as watching them only brought him envy.

He almost whimpered in relief when Wanderer walked up beside him and wordlessly offered to take the egg. He looked bedraggled, half of him shiny and half of him dull in comparison, with frayed seams splitting the difference, but Dreamer wasn't arguing if he was offering to take turns.

Fleeting was waiting for him, and wasted no time in putting a paw over his back and chewing his shoulders. He groaned, sinking to the ground as he felt the dead hide tear free, then purred deeply as she licked at the fresh, raw hide she'd revealed. Her claws raked down his back a moment later, bringing with it the familiar sensation of shedding, like little cutting claws digging into his hide but in a good way. She was clearly unused to helping another, not quite as intuitive in finding his itchy spots, but it was a huge relief nonetheless.

Once she was done with that, he could reach her to engage in the customary tangle of limbs to bite and claw at each other. A routine task, one he surprisingly didn't find all that awkward for her being female. She presented a beautiful feast for his senses, the scent of her fresh hide so wonderfully pure, which was only something to enjoy. He wasn't worried about enjoying it too much, he knew by now that was a silly concern; if anything, she seemed flattered that he found her so attractive.

Though on that note, he was beginning to become accustomed to the nuances in her scent – being generally unfamiliar with females' scents, it was often difficult to infer much from it – and it was almost as if she was enjoying it a bit much herself. Or he could be mistaken, it didn't seem like the time for that, itchy and agitated as they were. Still, it didn't mean he himself couldn't enjoy it.

That was, until he was licking at a raw patch on her neck, and she abandoned the frayed hide on his chest to climb onto him and wrap her tail around his with a needy growl.

Really? Now? He cast a glance over at Wanderer, though he appeared to be napping. Fleeting tossed her head with a huff, then trailed her snout along the sensitive hide she'd recently revealed on his neck; she was certain it wouldn't bother him. Dreamer was also sure it wouldn't bother him, he just wasn't sure how he'd feel about it himself if their positions were reversed… though he was coming around to the idea, with most of his discomfort over it having been clawed out during the previous cold-season.

They both purred deeply as he obliged her, holding each other close, though she was considerately quiet for his benefit which he appreciated. He might not have known what he wanted a year ago, but he was glad things had turned out the way they had; life was definitely much more interesting with a female to share it with.

Land-prey once again roamed the fields and forests, wing-prey were singing among the budding leaves in the trees, and the air smelled wet and not nearly as cold; the warming-season was well underway. This whole time, there had been no observable change to the egg, no indication there was any life inside.

The expectation and anticipation was immense, a weight that only grew heavier with every passing night. None of them had ever so much as seen a Nightstriker egg before this one, and Dreamer himself only had third-hand information on what would happen, which he knew never to take for granted. All they could do was wait, and trust, taking turns to keep it warm.

Until one morning, when Fleeting was very eager for him to take it while they began to settle down for sleep. Dreamer initially thought nothing of it, that she was probably going to sneak off with Wanderer – it was nice to have the energy to do things again – but then eyed her suspiciously as she settled down and watched him with poorly veiled excitement.

It didn't take long to feel it, and Dreamer huffed surprised as the egg rocked. It was barely perceptible, the miniscule movement only noticeable because before it had been absolutely still. He immediately set to staring at it, wondering if it was about to hatch or if their little one was just getting comfortable; it had to be cramped in there. After thinking several times over the next few minutes that he'd seen it move, he felt the next little wobble but didn't see anything. He looked up at Fleeting with wide, wondrous eyes, and she squeaked excitement under her breath before heartily nuzzling him.

"What?" Wanderer asked sleepily from nearby, rolling to stare questioningly at them. Dreamer shared a look with Fleeting, then took the egg in his mouth and carried it to give to Wanderer, Fleeting following him so that all three of them were then staring expectantly.

Again, Dreamer didn't see when it happened, but Wanderer's eyes suddenly widened and his wings dropped to the ground. Both Dreamer and Fleeting squeaked excited, and then all three of them were purring warmly.

"Not much time now," Fleeting whispered, resting her head on her paws and staring adoringly at the dark lump nestled to Wanderer's chest, whose breath hitched as it presumably wobbled again.

Dreamer was greatly looking forward to it. In a way, the egg had been good, a trial for needing to be completely mindful and aware of something small and fragile. He suspected that was going to change when it hatched and started needing food and attention and who knew what else, but he felt ready. At least, as ready as he was ever going to get.

The first signs came without warning, a faint but audible crack beside Dreamer's head rousing him from his light doze. For a brief heart-stopping moment he thought he'd accidentally leaned the wrong way, and hastily adjusted himself before realising what was happening.

He sharply inhaled, froze for a heartbeat, then leapt to the mouth of the den and loudly roared urgent, summons, haste, excited! The sound echoed out into the night, and then he could only stand there tensely, torn between waiting for Wanderer and Fleeting or going back to the egg.

Which was a stupid indecision, when he stopped to think about it. There had been no further sound, and when he leapt back inside and skidded to a halt, it was motionless, just the one crack along the top. He was still staring at it when Wanderer and Fleeting practically flew straight into the den, hastily scrambling to crowd around it.

A minute passed in silence, the three of them all staring with wide eyes. Dreamer was just starting to get worried when the crack bulged, the gap widening a little to reveal a glimpse of pale membrane beneath. The break in the shell curved around, creating a flap that flexed as the little hatchling inside strained to escape.

The air suddenly filled with an odd smell, like musky egg white with a clear presence of Nightstriker. A tiny little paw broke through, egg membrane splitting around the stubby little claws, closely followed by the head of the hatchling. The little male, for there were miniscule little fins running in a line up his forehead, gasped for breath before mewling his distress.

Three quiet hums of adoration filled the den while the tiny little Nightstriker found his bearings, coming to grips with entering the world. His little eyes fluttered, a deeper green than his parents', but mostly remained closed. He actually seemed quite content to just lie in his egg, only his head and a little paw poking out, and when Fleeting leaned in to lick him she made no attempt to remove him from it.

He was twitching erratically, but with tentative, testing movements, adjusting to the new sensations. His ears and frills flicked and flexed, and his tiny claws gripped the edge of his shell while his little lungs diligently drew in deep breaths of air. Dreamer was drawn forwards, nearly touching his snout to the hatchling, and the little head lifted and awkwardly rested on his nose with a squawk.

Dreamer hadn't known it was possible to love someone this much. It was normally such a fickle and complicated feeling, but he felt full to bursting with pure, unconditional love for this little Nightstriker, and he knew nothing about him yet; there wasn't really much to know at this point. He tilted his head a little to lick the hatchling up his neck, and there was a surprised squawk with a little jerk back. Then Wanderer leaned in to lick the back of his head, and he made a little rumbling noise as he slipped off Dreamer's snout.

An odd sound startled Dreamer a moment before Fleeting deposited a half-digested lump of fish on the ground by the egg. The hatchling almost immediately started inhaling wildly through his nose, eyes blearily blinking open towards the source of the smell suddenly filling the air, and then he was clawing his way out again, paw fumbling at the broken edge of the shell.

He needed no assistance as he slowly slipped out of his egg. The membrane clung to him, but his hindlegs kicked while his forelegs clawed, and he didn't have too much trouble clumsily crawling out and sinking his teeth into the soft, slimy fish.

Fleeting licked his back while he figured out how this whole eating thing worked, clearing him from the slime of the egg. He paid her no attention, entirely focused on his task, even most of his own limbs forgotten while he worked out how to twist off lumps of meat using his sharp little teeth and then gulp them down. Occasionally his eyes would blink open, though they were unfocused and wandered aimlessly, and his hindlegs gave aimless little kicks while his tail curled; his wings had yet to unfurl, slicked to his back.

This was… their son. I have a son… He was so tiny and uncoordinated, completely and totally vulnerable; Hel have mercy on anything stupid enough to wander anywhere near their den uninvited. Dreamer lifted his gaze to see both Wanderer and Fleeting staring with such love and adoration that he couldn't suppress quiet, happy squeaks, and though dragons could not cry in the human sense his eyes stung nonetheless.

Having eaten his fill, the hatchling rolled onto his side, and then Wanderer nudged him onto his back to lick the rest of him clean. He squeaked under the tongue, flailing and pawing at it, which was entirely futile given how thoroughly it dwarfed him. Even just that little activity left him exhausted, lying limply on his back, chest rapidly rising and falling as he panted.

Fleeting shuffled forwards, and he mewled as she picked him up in her mouth. She curled up on the spot, kicking her hindlegs around to make a sort of nest for him with her body to drop him in. She was purring loudly, which Dreamer knew would be a comfortable vibration, and then her wing descended and blocked him from sight.

"Why you holding him first," Dreamer grumbled, dropping his head onto his paws.

"Because I laid his egg," she purred, though with a sharp glare, and Wanderer swatted at him.

Dreamer fended him off, swatting back at him. "But was my turn to sit it…"

"He needs rest," Wanderer hummed. "Not should argue with Dam," he added lightly, and Dreamer yipped quietly as teeth unexpectedly bit into his tail. "Come, we can fly. He not will fly away while we play."

"We can fly soon," Dreamer huffed, slapping at him with his tail, then stared pleading at Fleeting. "I just… We… He is our son…"

Fleeting narrowed her eyes at him, though she still didn't stop purring. "Only once," she huffed, "he needs rest now." Dreamer excitedly got to his paws as she lifted her wing again. The hatchling was curled up, wedged comfortably between her hindleg and her side, his little paws gripping her leg. Adoring, he and Wanderer both purred while they gazed at him, and then all too soon the wing descended again to hide him from sight.

Dreamer knew he would get plenty of opportunities to see and play with him in the near future, but he was impatient. He sighed, dropping his head to his paws again – then stifled a yelp when Wanderer bit his ear. "Come fly," Wanderer chuffed, prodding at him with sharp claws to encourage him to move.

"Not want fly," Dreamer grumbled, forced back onto his haunches by the sharp little jabs so that he could swat him off.

"Me also," Wanderer huffed, "but waiting here not will be fun also. Not when Dam want him under her wing." Fleeting quietly snorted at him, turning her nose away, then pointedly presented them with the back of her head as she curled up.

I guess… Dreamer huffed back at him, then glanced at Fleeting. He had a peculiar impulse to ensure she was okay, and had everything she needed… but she'd just been out flying and playing with Wanderer, and he could smell that she'd eaten recently. It was… just a lot calmer than he was accustomed to expecting, lacking the drama and… everything about how it happened with Long-Paws; this way was much better, but it felt lacking somehow.

He reluctantly followed Wanderer outside, then took wing and flew up into the night. It was good to stretch after having sat with the egg for so long, to work his muscles and get his blood going, but… he had a son! How could he just casually go for a flight now of all times?

It didn't look any easier for Wanderer, he appeared to be similarly deep in thought. Dreamer wondered if this was any more normal for him, or if they were learning from the same depth. As far as Dreamer knew, Wanderer didn't have any more first-hand knowledge of this than he did, but he wasn't starting with knowledge that wasn't applicable. It was still bizarre to think Fleeting was perfectly lucid and well rested, rather than exhausted and pained, he still wanted to fly back and check if she needed rest or something.

Thinking about this wasn't getting him anywhere, and he could recognise when he needed a distraction. It was unusual, but he could also recognise when Wanderer needed distracting too, and lunged for his tail with a playful growl. They were soon chasing each other through the sky, caught up in the play as best as could be expected, pushing each other's flying to the limit to leave little room for pointless thinking. No doubt, their parenting skills would be put to the test before they knew it.