[div style="cursor: url("http://cur.cursors-4u.net/cursors/cur-9/cur836.cur"), auto; margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]Eggs were funny little mechanisms of incubating life. They had pores and air sacks so the foetus could breathe, nutrients swimming about so the foetus could feed, and a hard shell that helped shelter the foetus from mild disturbances. If all went well and there was somehow a way to restock the food within the egg, a child could live forever in their own little world. The hatching came when the food ran out. Hunger roars, starvation hits, and it was then that the young creature would become ravenous. The shell cracks, its body moves to destroy the membranes until finally it finds freedom to be as annoying, loud and demanding as it wants to be. In all simplicity, birds only hatched from their eggs because they wanted to be fed, not because they knew it was time to breathe in the real world. And this was the same case for the small, screeching utahraptor who was screaming at her sisters, not realising she had attracted the curious attention of Goldenluxury. Her senses were still overwhelmed. Her eyes were seeing things her brain had never processed before, hearing things that were still foreign but now clearer, smelling things that seemed to mingle and mix in her olfactory sensors. She wouldn’t have noticed the feline had she not spoken. Now registering a voice that differed from the sound of the wind and trees, the unnamed girl to turned around and bared her tiny, pointed teeth.
Hot air rushes from her upper throat producing a sound which vaguely resembles the hiss of a venomous viper. The threatening qualities of the sound, however, was still a work-in-progress. The grandeur of the sound would have to be developed later in her life but for now it was an incomplete wheeze of air. Following her warning sound, the baby reptile’s eyes slanted accordingly, framing her predatory slit pupils. Then, the flicks of feathers behind her head spread out like a frilled neck lizard’s, a growling now emerging from the pits of her fiery throat. Instincts. Instincts let her dominant display ironically cause her legs to carry her backwards when another creature appeared, this time one that happened to have horns. She isn’t aware that the comments being exchanged between the two were that of astonishment, amusement and confusion. The child was just as unsettled as the rest, her feelings of stress immensely heightened by the appearance of strangers who begun to crowd around. She screamed to her brothers and sisters again, this time seeming to either demand for help or warn them of the upcoming threats whilst they all tried to break free of their glossy prisons. Despite this, not even the siblings could recognise each other’s squawks and squabbles. They were still young, not able to understand the world or themselves – still screeching unintelligible calls with no particular meaning.
From the edges of her watered eyes comes the exhausted figure of one of her sisters, recently hatched and cast out into the cold landscape. She snaps her jaws at the raptor’s direction, but her voice is strangled by the wind, overshadowed by a looming and tall creature. More voices, more murmurs. Her ears are ringing at the choir of conversations, skin suddenly cold from the dragon’s penumbra. She raises her head cautiously this time, still with feathers raised in an instinctual attempt to look bigger than she was. But, being still young and new to the great big world, she is immediately distracted and put to ease. Her nostrils flare at a metallic smell that wafts towards her. Her pupils shrink, her claws grip the soil and adrenaline spikes. Her heart beats faster now, exhilaration and excitement overriding whatever fear she felt before. This creature must be their mother, right? There is a maternal aura that that seeps from his scales, the girl unaware that it was actually Luciferus’ elemental capabilities. Besides, how else can she tell? She doesn’t even know what animal she is herself, she doesn’t even know that her kind was rumoured extinct. Anything that has the instincts to come carrying food was good enough to pass as her mother.
Naturally, any animal would try to make sense of the world. In the girl’s case, she was quick to adopt the idea that if this dragon was feeding her then they must either be their mother, or they must be kings. To the other Typhooners, the question of who owned the navy eggs would be to match the species. Some believed that the owner of the bundle would be none other than Delta who fiercely protected the eggs when they were first found, others believed the mother just laid the eggs only to abandon the responsibility. Regardless, the child’s focus was the food, the meat. She could feel her mouth beginning to salivate and her teeth yearn to rip and tear into flesh. It was then that the appearance of the meat entered the newborn’s short range of vision, a bright red blur dangling and catching her undivided attention. Her eyes are fixated like that of a hawk’s, following the movements that her slim body wobbled back and forth with it without realising. Her shoulders flinch a little at the thud which reverberated against at her sensitive feet.
Before she can grasp the opportunity to take a bite, she notices her sister begin to scurry immediately to the offering. Like the self-absorbed creature she was, the bronze-feathered raptor toddles quickly towards it, steering her streamlined frame to try and bump heavily against her sister and therefore push her away. There, the girl clamps her jaws selfishly at the meat, tearing it away whilst growling at her sibling. She hatched first so she believes that she must have the right to the first bite. And, of course, the savory taste melts against her palette as she swallows the flesh down her throat. The sensation of eating, the feeling of domination against her family as she screeches at her brother who now waddles to the food which their ‘mother’ had laid out for them. Her throat rumbles the same warning threat and she daringly takes another bite before turning her attention from her pack entirely, greedily chewing and tearing away at the flesh. She’s so content, in fact, that she doesn’t feel uncomfortable by the presence of even more strangers coming to watch and confusedly gawk at the specimens they were. She does, however, stop to stare at Vandal for a few moments before continuing to feast against the wishes of her brothers and sisters. She doesn’t know Vandal was the heroic figure of their story, her glance was merely coincidental.
Hot air rushes from her upper throat producing a sound which vaguely resembles the hiss of a venomous viper. The threatening qualities of the sound, however, was still a work-in-progress. The grandeur of the sound would have to be developed later in her life but for now it was an incomplete wheeze of air. Following her warning sound, the baby reptile’s eyes slanted accordingly, framing her predatory slit pupils. Then, the flicks of feathers behind her head spread out like a frilled neck lizard’s, a growling now emerging from the pits of her fiery throat. Instincts. Instincts let her dominant display ironically cause her legs to carry her backwards when another creature appeared, this time one that happened to have horns. She isn’t aware that the comments being exchanged between the two were that of astonishment, amusement and confusion. The child was just as unsettled as the rest, her feelings of stress immensely heightened by the appearance of strangers who begun to crowd around. She screamed to her brothers and sisters again, this time seeming to either demand for help or warn them of the upcoming threats whilst they all tried to break free of their glossy prisons. Despite this, not even the siblings could recognise each other’s squawks and squabbles. They were still young, not able to understand the world or themselves – still screeching unintelligible calls with no particular meaning.
From the edges of her watered eyes comes the exhausted figure of one of her sisters, recently hatched and cast out into the cold landscape. She snaps her jaws at the raptor’s direction, but her voice is strangled by the wind, overshadowed by a looming and tall creature. More voices, more murmurs. Her ears are ringing at the choir of conversations, skin suddenly cold from the dragon’s penumbra. She raises her head cautiously this time, still with feathers raised in an instinctual attempt to look bigger than she was. But, being still young and new to the great big world, she is immediately distracted and put to ease. Her nostrils flare at a metallic smell that wafts towards her. Her pupils shrink, her claws grip the soil and adrenaline spikes. Her heart beats faster now, exhilaration and excitement overriding whatever fear she felt before. This creature must be their mother, right? There is a maternal aura that that seeps from his scales, the girl unaware that it was actually Luciferus’ elemental capabilities. Besides, how else can she tell? She doesn’t even know what animal she is herself, she doesn’t even know that her kind was rumoured extinct. Anything that has the instincts to come carrying food was good enough to pass as her mother.
Naturally, any animal would try to make sense of the world. In the girl’s case, she was quick to adopt the idea that if this dragon was feeding her then they must either be their mother, or they must be kings. To the other Typhooners, the question of who owned the navy eggs would be to match the species. Some believed that the owner of the bundle would be none other than Delta who fiercely protected the eggs when they were first found, others believed the mother just laid the eggs only to abandon the responsibility. Regardless, the child’s focus was the food, the meat. She could feel her mouth beginning to salivate and her teeth yearn to rip and tear into flesh. It was then that the appearance of the meat entered the newborn’s short range of vision, a bright red blur dangling and catching her undivided attention. Her eyes are fixated like that of a hawk’s, following the movements that her slim body wobbled back and forth with it without realising. Her shoulders flinch a little at the thud which reverberated against at her sensitive feet.
Before she can grasp the opportunity to take a bite, she notices her sister begin to scurry immediately to the offering. Like the self-absorbed creature she was, the bronze-feathered raptor toddles quickly towards it, steering her streamlined frame to try and bump heavily against her sister and therefore push her away. There, the girl clamps her jaws selfishly at the meat, tearing it away whilst growling at her sibling. She hatched first so she believes that she must have the right to the first bite. And, of course, the savory taste melts against her palette as she swallows the flesh down her throat. The sensation of eating, the feeling of domination against her family as she screeches at her brother who now waddles to the food which their ‘mother’ had laid out for them. Her throat rumbles the same warning threat and she daringly takes another bite before turning her attention from her pack entirely, greedily chewing and tearing away at the flesh. She’s so content, in fact, that she doesn’t feel uncomfortable by the presence of even more strangers coming to watch and confusedly gawk at the specimens they were. She does, however, stop to stare at Vandal for a few moments before continuing to feast against the wishes of her brothers and sisters. She doesn’t know Vandal was the heroic figure of their story, her glance was merely coincidental.