Just another uneventful day… sorta. With the false alarms and Cynder's demands, it's been a pretty annoying day for Spyro. Days never seemed like days—they seemed like eternities.

"SPYRO!" Cynder roared.

Spyro lay somewhat peacefully on a hammock made from a Dreadwing's leathery wing membrane. It was propped up in the worst possible place; In between the horns on the statue of the Chronicler, that stood tall and proud in the training arena. If you don't see anything wrong with that, although it may be quite obvious, you'll find out…

"SSSSSPPPPYYYYRROOOOOO!" Cynder called once again. As her booming voice traveled throughout the temple, Spyro just seemed to snore even louder and more obnoxious with every echo. He snored loud enough, so Cynder was able to hear him from outside of the gate, and all the way down the porch.

Finally, she took action. She sat up, licked her claw, randomly rolled around in the dirt, while eating some dirt in the process, and, wait—what were we talking about, again?

Okay, Spyro's just snoring louder now, and Cynder's apparently a hybrid Drag-dog. Whelp, either that, or she was still getting some sudden cravings despite having laid the eggs a couple days ago.

Now, Cynder takes action. (For real this time.) She wrapped the eggs in a blanket made from an ape's coat. Actually, there's a slight story behind this once 'charming' lil' blanket, but we'll get to that later. She dashed up the ramp, and rammed through the gate, where she halted abruptly only to shake the slight pain away from her head. Once again, she continues, circling around the statue. At one point she stopped to look up at Spyro, who was a remarkably heavy sleeper.

Cynder snarled, and hopped onto the little pointless ledge that surrounded the whole arena. Next to a stray dragon's helmet that sat atop of it, there was a blinking orange button. She gingerly leaned on the wall beside the button, and pressed it, looking the other way, and whistling as if she weren't doing a thing.

The whole arena rumbled, and soon the statue began to disappear into the ground. Spyro was somehow still asleep.

"Ugh!" Cynder flicked her tail around in anger. She spread her wings, and soon she was circling around Spyro like a hungry Vulture.

The statue was halfway into the ground now. Cynder plopped onto Spyro, and began clawing his cheek. "My gawd, Spyro, you're a heavy sleeper…" She whispered.

Spyro, wide awake now, gazed upon Cynder. The light from the stained glass window on the roof obscured his view of her. "What da FUDGE?!"

"GAH! HOW ARE YOU AWAKE?!" Cynder cried.

"Well, let's see…" Spyro sarcastically tapped his chin with the tip of his wing. "WE'RE ON A BIG RUMBLING STATUE THAT'S ABOUT TO GO INTO THE GROUND! THAT GATE'S GONNA CRUSH US!"

"Hm, good observation."

The statue shook even more violently now as did the temple, as it approached its little prison. Tiny shards of glass fell from the ceiling, along with a mixture of vines, dirt, and some pebbles.

"Can we like, go now, before we die for reals this time?" Suggested Cynder.

"Good idea," replied Spyro. "Let's go." The two took off into the light that the glass roof provided. As soon as they set claw out on the porch, the statue had disappeared underground.

Spyro looked behind his wing, although there was nothing to look at but the orange blinking light that lived on the gate. "At least that was far more exiting than serving you all day." He plopped onto the ground.

Cynder huffed. "I've been trying to get chu up that whole time!"

Spyro sighed. "What is it ya want?"

"Well," Cynder raised a claw, and opened her mouth, only to slowly lower her claw down. "…I forgot…"

Spyro blinked.