She gently turned the egg with her snout. Her breath heated the sand beneath them, and her tail cleared the shards from the hatching pit. The observers had long ago cleared. The dragonlings were with her mate, devouring their first meal. The mother dragon turned the egg again, and again she heated the sand beneath it. She refused to accept that it had never been warm and never would be.
About the Creator
Stephanie Hoogstad
With a BA in English and MSc in Creative Writing, writing is my life. I have edited and ghost written for years with some published stories and poems of my own.
Learn more about me: thewritersscrapbin.com
Support my writing: Patreon
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