Hello, readers! Now that the prologue is over, the story is finally centering on it's main cast. Three of them are introduced here, which is set about two weeks after Dunesweep and Gritclaw arrived at the Sand Stronghold with their quarry.

In response to your review Literally: Yeah, even as I wrote the 2nd part of the prologue part of me thought "This backstory seems a little out of place here.." but I enjoy adding a bit of perspective and life even into background characters; a bit of insight into who they are, how their life was etc. In this case I thought it might give a bit more context as to how Dunesweep and Gritclaw ended up as the thieves of Whiteout and Thoughtful's egg. I just like delving a bit into how the beginning of stories came to be. I guess it's one of my flaws. From here on out there shouldn't really be any more dumps like that, but let me know if I slip up.

Also, the granting of asylum to an exile I feel isn't as volatile an action in the dragon universe as it would be here. I'd imagine in Pyrrhia there are lots of shady plots going on behind the scenes, and that there is sort of an uneasy leniency granted in some cases to exiles depending on where they end up and circumstances for their tribe at the time. To the SkyWings Cloudsweep settling in the Sand Kingdom is a bit suspicious, but they let it slide because of her former position as an emissary to the Sand Kingdom and because they'd rather not go to war with the SandWings while they're trying to reorganize their leadership.

Sorry for the lengthy reply. Thanks for the critiques, any more you have are welcome.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy as these new destinies are born!

A few weeks after Gritclaw and Dunesweep's fateful return, a single moon waxed bright above the quiet Sand Stronghold. Most of it's denizens were sleeping in their homes after a long day of work in the desert sun. Curled up with their parents were hatchlings, snoozing contently after gleefully rollicking around with their fellows all day. Yet never was the entire population asleep. Stationed outside the walls, or tromping on patrol paths, were many soldiers and scouts. They remained vigilant in the cool night as they dutifully watched for threats to their kingdom. While some may have given the impression of weakness as they dozed or yawned, any enemy dragon that tried to attack would be foolish indeed. The lookouts were the venom-filled fangs of the slumbering Sand Kingdom; swift and deadly if provoked. But this night was fortuitous, for no danger would be troubling them. Instead this night was one that heralded new life for the SandWing Tribe, even if that life was a little different to the norm...

Within the SandWing hatchery a sleepy dragoness was checking and re-checking several nests. The eggs that lay within were orphans, many due to parents that had died in battle or sickness. Sand Kingdom law dictated that orphaned eggs be cared for and monitored in a series of chambers allocated for the specific purpose of their safety and nurturing. Four dragonesses known as broodmothers were staffed to watch over the clutches and keep them healthy. Each one was chosen for the job because of experience with raising eggs and hatchlings; many were widows who had lost their mates and children. This often meant they had no desire to have any more eggs of their own. But the tribe needed their skill and experience, so they were assigned as the guardians of parentless offspring.

The hatchery itself was guarded on the outside by a small squadron who rotated daily. While it was unlikely any enemy tribes would have the audacity to attack the eggs Queen Scorpion was adamant they not be left vulnerable. More common than the threat of enemy dragons were scavenging native wildlife. Jackals, desert hawks and other predators would make off with a dragon egg if given the chance. The guards ensured the creatures wouldn't be able to snatch them from under their snouts. Some enjoyed the would-be thieves as odd snacks to break the monotony of standing watch.

Inside the hatchery there would be two of the four broodmothers awake to monitor their charges. One of these, a slim pale yellow dragoness named Sunbeetle, was incredibly bored. There hadn't been any hatchings for over a week. For the past while her job had been nothing more than walking around the cluster of chambers and fussing over silent nests. What Sunbeetle most enjoyed about being a broodmother was watching new lives being born before her. It always warmed her heart to see the hatchlings as they soldiered on through their first challenge of breaking their eggshell and emerging into the world. No matter how harsh times were, these hatchings reminded Sunbeetle that new hope was always being born. Another bonus was that she often got to name the little boys or girls. Sometimes, though, this would lead to arguments with her co-worker over who's name was better for the hatchling.

Presently the other broodmother awake was a battle-scarred and rough-looking dragoness with scales the color of shadowed sand. She was an intimidating sight to behold for those who didn't know her. Her skin was lacerated with old cuts, gashes and bites. Her rear right leg was twisted and mangled, the result of an improperly healed shattered bone. Most of her face was pockmarked, though her eyes were mercifully both functional. The most shocking of her old wounds were not on her snout, however. Where both of her mighty wings should have been were only scarred stumps rising from her shoulders. She'd lost them from an IceWing interrogation long ago, courtesy of frostbreath.

Yet despite her appearance, the dragoness known as Sidewinder had a soft spot for little ones. After being dismissed due to her inability to fly she'd had children of her own with a fellow soldier. Over the years her hatchlings grew up and her mate passed on. Wanting to have a better purpose in her tribe, Sidewinder applied to become a broodmother and ensure the safety of future generations. Since being accepted she had done her best to care for the lives that had no family left to love them. As the eldest of the four broodmothers Sidewinder was often the one looked to for guidance by her peers. As she would be again on this moonlit night, for one egg in particular was about to hatch...

A long yawn echoed from one corner of the hatchery. Sunbeetle was doing her rounds along the northern chambers as she did almost every day. It was quiet tonight; the only sounds she could hear were the clicks of her own talons on the floor and the whistling breeze coming in from the open windows. Her head jerked up at a sudden noise; after a half-second Sunbeetle relaxed and rolled her eyes. It wasn't any new excitement to break her from the stifling boredom, just a guard snapping up an unfortunate animal for a midnight snack. Her own stomach was silent, but she took a moment to have a quick bite of her own regardless. Strapped along Sunbeetle's side was a brown jackal-leather pouch containing an assortment of dried meats and large insects for her to munch on between meals. Stopping at one of the nests beside her, she pulled out an alarmingly sized dried centipede and crunched on it idly.

The egg in this particular nest stood out from the others in the room. It was no shade of brown, yellow, white or orange like the SandWing eggs nearby. Instead the shell of this egg was deep, inky black, speckled with glimmering white spots. It was difficult to see in the dark thanks to it's color. Sunbeetle watched the small oval expectantly, smiling to herself. She began speaking to the egg, or rather the hatchling inside. She didn't know if it could understand her, but in some cases sound had been known to evoke a response from dragon eggs. Whatever was in there was listening, at least.

"Still haven't hatched yet, huh? Don't worry, we'll be ready when you do. I've made sure to read about NightWing egg cycles. I think you'll be hatching at night, but I'm not sure," Sunbeetle paused to munch on her snack quietly before continuing, "It'll be good if you do, cause it's nice and cool at night."

A sudden sneeze issued from Sunbeetle as she was about to take another bite of the centipede. She shook her head in annoyance, wrinkling her nose.

"Ugh, the dust doesn't vanish in the night though," she laughed to herself, moving towards a nearby closed window, "I wish it did; darn stuff makes me sneeze."

The wooden doors of the small window gave a low creak as they were pulled open to let in fresh air. The slight gusts dispersed the gathered dust, much to Sunbeetle's satisfaction. When she turned back to the egg, however, her face morphed into shock and she dropped her unfinished snack.

A shaft of moonlight from outside had fallen upon the NightWing egg, covering it in a soft silver light. But that wasn't what had shocked Sunbeetle. Instead it was the egg's shell that gave her cause for concern. Suddenly, the shell had changed from white-speckled black to a shining silver not unlike the moonlight streaming through the window. Sunbeetle began to panic, hopping about and looking around frantically.

"Oh, three moons! I never read or heard anything about this... what if it's sick? If I messed up the egg, Queen Scorpion will kill me," she took a deep breath for calm, trying to stop pacing as her tail whipped about, "Okay, okay, calm down. First rule, if something unknown happens, listen..."

The broodmother ducked her head close to the silvery egg, closing her eyes and concentrating. She could hear the usual thump, thump, thump rhythm of a healthy hatchling heart inside. That in itself gave Sunbeetle a bit of relief, and she let out a whoosh of breath she'd been holding. Other sounds accompanying the heartbeat made her perk up in worry again. The tell-tale swish-swish, and quick tap-tap-tap indicating a baby dragon soon to hatch were echoing inside the shell.

"Oh, cripes! It's gonna hatch!" Sunbeetle whispered to herself, partially in excitement and partially in fear.

She abruptly raised her head from the now shifting egg and called out into the chamber at the top of her lungs:

"Sidewinder! It's hatching, and something weird's going on!"

About ten seconds passed with no response and Sunbeetle twisting her tail in her foreclaws in worry. Then, a steady thumping on the ground approached her. Sidewinder had come running on her powerful legs from the southern chamber upon hearing her co-worker's frantic yell. Thanks to years of having to run to get anywhere she was one of the fastest dragons in the tribe on land, and this was no exception.

The elder broodmother came to a halt beside the nest, whipping her head from the egg to Sunbeetle. Her features narrowed, and she snorted before assuming an authoritative stance. Since her days in the army she was used to taking command whenever she was needed and this had served her well in the hatchery.

"Hmm, did you do something to the egg? From all I know about NightWing life cycles I haven't heard anything about their shells turning silver."

Sunbeetle shook her head frantically, "No! I didn't touch it; I just turned around after opening the window and it was like this!"

She gestured to the window with an outstretched talon; Sidewinder narrowed her eyes briefly before focusing them on the NightWing egg.

"Okay, well, we can worry about that later. The important thing is the egg is still alive, and it's hatching," the elder dragoness nodded and stepped closer to the nest, "I'll stay and help you with this one. I've never hatched a NightWing egg, but damn it if I haven't helped bring hundreds of SandWings into the world. I'll do my best to make sure she comes out all right."

"She?" Sunbeetle inquired with surprise, perking her head up from checking the egg.

"Yes. If you listen very closely, and carefully, you can discern whether the hatchling will be male or female shortly before it hatches. It takes some experience, I might teach you someday, but enough of that for now." Sidewinder shook her head dismissively, turning back to the egg, "Be silent, and watch."

As if spurred on by the conversation nearby, the NightWing egg was now rocking back and forth inside the small nest of straw and feathers. The single moon hovering in the night sky outside seemed to reflect it's light off the shell as it moved.

For a moment, Sunbeetle broke the quiet, unable to keep from wondering, "I wonder what name we'll give you?"

A sudden loud crack split the cool night air, followed by a short, sharp cry.

Curled inside the shell of the only home she'd ever known, was the hatching baby dragon that the two broodmothers were fussing over. She'd been tucked away cozily for a long time now. The fluid encasing her was warm and kept her nourished. Her senses developed slowly as she grew, but most of the time she silently dozed in a semi-conscious state. The sharpest of her senses was hearing; she could pick up noises from outside, though she often didn't know what they meant. Some of the earliest sounds she heard came from a voice. It belonged to someone, the hatchling knew, and that someone was called mother.

It made the hatchling calm to hear mother's voice. It was a sweet, gentle sound that flowed around her egg like a river of protection. She felt a happiness inside her when she was near mother, for though she did not know what it meant yet, she was loved. The second voice the hatchling heard was distinctly deeper than mother's, though no less soothing. It had a different shape to mother's, coming in rolls and clusters like silent thunder. Yet the hatchling was not afraid, for she knew this voice came from father. Father's voice joined with mother's to enfold the hatchling with a great harmony and peace. It enfolded two others, as well; two beings just like her, growing inside their own shells and their own life-giving liquid. Yet the hatchling could sense that they were not the same as she. Both physically, and mentally, they were different, but they were like mother and father. They too were family; her siblings.

As her faint thoughts floated about they weren't expressed in words, but rather primal emotions and ancient memories. Somehow, she could recognize a tiny bit of the world moving around outside her. It gave her comfort and fostered an eagerness to join that world that grew just as her body did.

Time passed for a while in the company of these known beings. Yet, one day, the hatchling found herself taken to someplace else. Someone had picked her up from wherever she was and flown away. The hatchling didn't recognize the motions of the one grasping her shell. They belonged to someone new and unknown. A voice had attached to this someone shortly after they'd taken her.

It was unlike mother or father in several ways. The voice was female, like mother, but sharper, quicker. The tone and flow was also quite different. The voice swirled around the hatchling's egg before being snatched away in the wind as quickly as it had arrived. A second strange voice joined the first; deep, rough and male. Yet this voice was quieter and less jarring to the hatchling. The someone it belonged to didn't move quite as quickly as his companion.

The pair of strangers spoke often together for some time afterwards. The hatchling sensed they meant her no harm, and so slipped into a calmer and deeper rest for a while. The impressions that came to her then were faint; she arrived at a place distinctly warmer than where she had been. She passed through somewhere with a great tangle of voices before eventually coming to rest in a new nesting spot. From then on the hatchling heard only four voices near her, none of them known to her at first but all of good intention. As she thought in her primitive way about all these confusing things, the desire to learn of what was outside only increased. Her body grew, too, and eventually the confines of her shell became cramped and the nourishing egg-fluid sparse. The hatchling wanted to escape, but it wasn't until the light of one of Pyrrhia's moons shone into her egg that she truly tried.

The glowing silver rays had flooded into her small space suddenly and left a strange song resonating inside her heart that made her shiver. The song promised a gift to help her in the perilous outside world. It wasn't as safe, she knew, as her egg, but it held wonders she couldn't wait to experience. The hatchling accepted the song's promise and began to move inside her shell, pushing at it with what little strength she had. The song that granted her power also drew her to break out and share it with those who needed protecting. Two familiar voices began to respond in her attempts and it encouraged her to keep trying.

One sentence was heard with sudden clarity, from the softer voice; "I wonder what name we'll give you?"

'Name!'

With her first articulate thought, the hatchling pushed with all her might and at last broke from the shell that had cradled her for so long. The singing moonlight glowed upon her glistening dark scales, and she blinked her blue eyes at the sudden brightness before widening them and looking around. For the first time in her short life, she could see.

"Oh, look at her! She's so cute!" gushed the soft voice the hatchling had known; she moved her eyes, and saw that it belonged to a towering yellow dragoness that looked quite different to herself.

"Hmph, all hatchlings are adorable. NightWings are no different." responded the rougher voice the hatchling knew. It's owner was stockier and darker than her companion.

The hatchling, though she was a hybrid, did indeed look just like a NightWing. Her scales were a mix of black-gray with a hint of dark blue. Her underbelly and the membranes of her wings were a lighter gray similar to the silver of her broken eggshell. Her tiny horns and the spines running down her back were white as snow, while her inquisitive eyes were navy blue. A line of lighter gray ran along each side of her face, together with her horns and spines a small reminder of the IceWing blood in her veins.

The darker dragoness bent her head down to the hatchling and soothed, "There there, now, hello little one! I'm your auntie Sidewinder," she paused, pointing at the paler, thinner dragoness, "and this is your auntie Sunbeetle. We're going to take care of you, don't worry."

The hatchling blinked her little eyes at the pair, then moved her snout in her first smile. She didn't really understand what they were saying, but could see they would care for her like mother and father would have.

Sunbeetle cooed at the baby dragon, placing her head in her foretalons and leaning on the edge of the nest, "Awww, look! She's smiling at us!"

"Speaking of which, we really ought to give "she" a name." mumbled Sidewinder, shifting her dark eyes for a moment to peer at the eggshell fragments littering the nest. One small reflective piece was stuck to the hatchling's head in a jaunty manner. The combination of silver on deep black scales reminded the old dragoness of something.

"How about Marble?" she suggested, thinking of the grand stone used for carving intricate statues or great structures. Though not used in the Sand Kingdom, she knew it had been used in the Night City before it's abandonment.

Sunbeetle wrinkled her snout, preparing to argue, but relented upon hearing the hatchling squeak at the name, "Yeah, that sounds fitting. At least she'll have a piece of her heritage in her name, if nothing else besides her scales."

The newly dubbed Marble squeaked again, before beginning to wobble about on the nest's floor as she took a few steps. She nudged at a few eggshell fragments, curious at how they shimmered as they moved. She stopped as a new sensation gripped her abdomen, or stomach to be precise. It was a faintly gnawing but insistent feeling that prodded at her. Her instincts told her it meant hunger; she needed food to give her energy for moving around.

To communicate the predicament to her aunts, Marble began to squeak repeatedly, opening and closing her mouth. Sidewinder smiled, knowing the urgent sounds well.

"She's hungry, hah," the elder broodmother turned to gesture at Sunbeetle's snack pouch, "Got anything in there that Marble might eat? NightWing diets are similar to ours, though they fare better on meat than insects."

Sunbeetle nodded and reached into her pack, "Sure, I think I have some camel jerky in here somewhere..."

She rifled around for a moment before triumphantly pulling out a strip of dried meat. Knowing Marble wouldn't be able to chew such a tough food yet, Sunbeetle began to chew it up with her teeth before carefully depositing it in a small pile near the hungry hatchling.

Marble stopped her barrage of squeaks as a delicious new scent hit her nose that came from the chewed meat. Her little stomach made a grumbling sound and her mouth salivated. This was food, and it would make her strong.

Without any sense of etiquette whatsoever Marble dove upon the pile of meat and began devouring it ravenously. Within a minute it had vanished as if it hadn't been there in the first place. Marble gave a burp, the gnawing hunger having been sated for the time being. She lay down on the soft floor of the nest, fluttering her fragile wings as she curled up. Lethargy began to overtake her similarly to when she'd been inside her egg. Thanks to her full belly and the exertion of hatching Marble was ready to sleep. The song of the moonlight was fading now, but it's gift remained forever with her. It was dormant for now, but soon the power would awaken in her veins ready to be used as a guide for the future.

The two broodmothers watching over the dark hatchling whispered to one another as the hours passed, wondering at the birth of this odd new addition to the SandWing Tribe. They stayed sitting at the nest until dawn came, now and then doing a quick pass to check if any other eggs hatched. No others inside the hatchery would be hatching for a few days, but further away within the Sand Fortress, two mournful parents had just experienced the hatching of their own clutch.

Earlier in the night, before the hatching of the egg taken from far away, other hatchlings were getting ready to break out themselves. In the upper segments of the Sand Stronghold were a number of homes. All of these homes were dark and quiet, save one. Yellow candles of beeswax gave a warm glow from inside the sandstone abode of Gritclaw and Dunesweep.

Normally both occupants of the small but tasteful rooms would be fast asleep at this hour when not off on missions. But tonight was an exception, for tonight was when their eggs would hatch. Dunesweep had known since listening that morning that it would be under the blanket of blackness and stars that her children would enter the big, wide, wonderful world known as Pyrrhia. Most SandWing eggs hatched under the scorching daytime sun but a small number did hatch in the cooler evenings. Given that the offspring of Gritclaw and Dunesweep were of mixed tribe descendance, neither were really certain the eggs would follow standard SandWing hatching patterns.

The proud parents weren't so much proud at that moment as anxious. Gritclaw had been pacing back and forth in the nest room ever since the sun set. He only paused for water and to fuss over the nest. He didn't eat, for he felt that if he did he might throw up. Despite having faced many dangers over his lifetime of espionage, none of it had prepared Gritclaw for the responsibility of parenthood. The three precious lives inside the eggs were counting on him and Dunesweep to grow them into their own destinies.

There was a brief pause in the click-clack of his claws on the stone floor as he grabbed a glass of water from a wooden table, one of the few furniture items in the nest room. All it contained were drawers for hatchling supplies, a small table near a window against the wall, and a large, soft bedding stuffed with goose-down made for the hatchlings when they arrived. Close to the bedding was the room's namesake. It was a large nest traditionally woven of sturdy twigs, feathers and covered at it's base with a wool blanket, containing a clutch of three eggs. The eggshells themselves were a mix of brilliant red, fiery orange and tawny yellows.

Curled near the eggs was their mother Dunesweep. Unlike her mate, who's restless energy never seemed to cease, she was much stiller. Dunesweep had sealed away her worries and fears since several hours previous. She could feel them, even now, twisting and writhing, pushing, screaming to get out. But she couldn't let them. For the sake of her mate, and her own fragile, foolish hopes, Dunesweep had to put on the mask of calm.

The anxiety she felt was different to Gritclaw's. The worries of being a new parent were merely the background of more terrible portents. Dunesweep was listening, as she'd been listening for all the hours since she awoke that day and the day before. She felt as though, in a way, she already knew her children. Could see their life force as it thumped and swished and moved beneath the shells.

'Or... the lack of it.'

Once more that little thought poked at her mind, seeking to unravel it. Dunesweep held firm and curled her tail a little tighter around the clutch. Since the previous day she'd known something was wrong. Her clutch had been healthy until now and showing signs of imminent hatching. Two of the eggs remained like this, but one... was disconcertingly quieter. There was no sound of the egg fluid moving within or the hatchling inside trying to break out. It's faint heartbeat remained, but even that seemed to be faltering.

The signs were clear. Dunesweep knew well what they meant from all she'd learned from the broodmothers.

'It was foolish of me to think it would all go perfectly. Hybrid clutches don't always turn out properly. But maybe...'

She sighed, turning her creased yellow eyes once more to look at the weakening egg. It's shell was creamy yellow mixed with tawny brown, almost like a proper SandWing egg. One giveaway of it's difference was the fact the shell had a smooth SkyWing texture rather than that of a rougher SandWing shell. The tiny baby dragon inside was still. Unlike it's siblings, who were diligently pecking away at their shell prisons, this one simply floated without stirring. Dunesweep didn't want to say it out loud or even think it to herself. The news would break Gritclaw's heart as it was already breaking hers.

'The baby is dying. There's nothing I can do.'

Dunesweep steadied her grip on the torrent of emotions threatening to burst through her mouth in a terrible roar. Anger, sadness, resentment, it all came to the fact that she was helpless to do anything at all. The whims of nature were to be trifled with by no mortal beings. Not even dragons.

*crack*

With the potency of a bolt of lightning the sound jolted Dunesweep from her melancholy. Gritclaw had heard it too as it fractured the stifling silence of the room. He'd come running to the nest clumsily, almost dropping the small pouch he'd snatched from the supply drawers. A smile slowly grew over his muzzle to replace the wrinkled frown he'd been wearing for so long. Gritclaw was focused on one of the three eggs, which had a shell reminiscent of amber tree sap. It was rocking back and forth quite vigorously in the nest. A long crack had broken the smooth surface and was growing fast.

Another of the eggs, shell red like the sunset, began to rock about and bump into the amber egg. Jagged lines were spiderwebbing quicker and quicker along it's shell. Every knock with the lighter egg seemed to help both of them break free more easily.

Gritclaw laughed to himself quietly as he watched, 'Not even hatched yet, and they're working together. Or bickering...'

His bright smile slowly faded as his gaze fell to the third egg. It hadn't stirred at all yet. The hatchling inside didn't even seem to be moving.

"Dunesweep?"

The soon-to-be mother dragoness shut her eyes tightly and clenched her jaw at the simple question. As the clamor of breaking shells grew louder, the third hearbeat grew slower. In the chaotic hatching a tremendous smashing sound rocked the nest. Dunesweep listened.

A loud squeak came from the nest, now covered in colorful eggshell. The lonely life inside the unhatched egg had stopped it's heartbeat. Amongst the piercing noise of the two rambunctious hatchlings as they explored their new world, their lost sibling was like an empty hole in a freshly-woven tapestry.

The pair of hatchlings were wrestling on the nest floor innocent to the plight of their parents. One had scales ranging from tawny brown to a light amber, his tiny wings somewhat large for his frame, perhaps a sign of SkyWing inheritance. His face, though not yet developed fully by age, seemed to suggest a SandWing visage. At the end of his tail was the blunt stinger of a hatchling SandWing.

The other had colorful scales reminiscent of his mother with bright mixes of orange and crimson. His wings were smaller than his sibling's though they seemed sturdier. His build was subtly bulkier as well, though he seemed a bit clumsier than his sibling as they wrestled on the nest-floor. His small, sharper features were suggestive of SkyWing influence. Like his sibling he too had a developing stinger on the end of his tail.

The two were brothers and always would be from that moment onwards. As they grew older they would scarcely remember there even existed a third egg in their clutch. When such tragedies of nature befell dragon parents they would typically not linger on it for long. In their primal days they were tough, practical creatures, and some of that long-ago survival sense lingered still.

Dunesweep's eyes vacantly watched her two sons as they enjoyed their first moments of true life. She spoke in a hollow, dead voice to her mate as he stared at the unhatched egg with pain in his black eyes.

"The last egg, it's..." she paused and shook her head sharply, "The baby inside is dead, Gritclaw. We got lucky as it is with these two. You knew as well as I did that this was a possibility. I mourn our loss, but thank the moons above that two of our children survived."

She hated how bland it sounded, as though she'd just mentioned a cactus fruit that'd gone rotten. Dunesweep closed her eyes and let her painful grief burn away inside her until nothing was left but ash. There would be time to mourn later at their offspring's funeral rites.

Something bumped against one of her forelegs, reminding her that there were still two hungry mouths that depended on her now. Gritclaw wordlessly moved beside her and nuzzled his head with hers comfortingly. He looked down upon the colorful pair of tangled siblings as they squeaked with wide mouths for food. Gently, he separated them and reached into the supply pouch he held in one foretalon. At the talons of each hatchling he placed a soft, juicy brown grub. Plump larvae of tatterwing moths were often kept around the Sand Kingdom as food for baby dragons due to their soft texture and nourishing flesh.

While the brothers eagerly gobbled down their first meals Dunesweep suggested in a soft voice,

"We should give them names, don't you think?"

Gritclaw nodded his agreement and pointed to the amber-tawny hatchling nearest to him, "I'll name this one." he stepped away from his mate and leaned down towards his son, a small smile growing on his snout.

"Hello there, I'm your dad! Your name will be Adder, because you'll be as quick and smart as a snake when you grow up. You'll be faster than the rest, I'm sure of it. "

Dunesweep nodded in approval, nudging the newly-named Adder softly with her snout in affection. She turned her head to the right and peered at the red hatchling, who was still finishing his plump meal.

"I'm your mother, little one." Dunesweep said softly to him, "The name you shall have is one from my old home. Torque, that is who you are, my son. You'll burn as brightly as any of those stars up there, I promise."

Though the loss of one of their children still weighed heavy upon their minds the new parents shared an ember of hope between them. Their sons would likely face hardships as they grew, but they would grow with great destinies ahead of them in the SandWing tribe. Intruding on this shared hope, a passing feeling bothered Dunesweep for a moment; it was as though something had caused a ripple in the unknowable and infinite seas of time. As though someone had walked over her grave, though she had not yet been lain to rest.

'Melodramatic thinking, but I can't help but feel like these two might not be as rooted here as I hope... hmm.' she rolled her eyes, 'NightWing superstition is getting to me I suppose.'

Dismissing the odd notion with a shake of her head, Dunesweep leaned down to nuzzle her two hatchlings, who were now seeking affection instead of food with their small squeaks.

Softly, she murmured in passing something she hoped they might remember, "Torque and Adder, no matter where you go or what you do, never forget who you are."

Thus were born the main cast for this story! In the next chapter there'll be a time jump to when the hatchling trio are older dragonets. It'll also be when the story begins to narrow to Marble's perspective and her experiences. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and remember to leave any comments or critiques, or fav/follow if you feel inclined. I'm sorry to say I'm going to be busy through much of December so it may be a while before chapter 2 is out. But don't worry, the story shall continue. Thanks for making it this far, readers, I look forward to the next arc!