ORIGIN - Hello world!

The neonate had developed in quiet, barely a shift or noise in their late development. They became in deep, deep sleep. They grew slowly, slower than others would. Even as their mind began to wake they could not leave their chrysalis, body too weak to break free and the comfortable warmth drawing them back into unconsciousness. Their biology told them to bide their time, and so they did.

The moonstone grew frailer with each passing day, struggling to hold the form within. The infant’s inaction bought them more time, more than they needed, but soon would come the breaking point, and today it had arrived. It took nothing more than a scrape of their sharper ends against the wall. Cracks laced the chrysalis, and with a little push it gave way, gembound within falling forward, once half lidded eyes splitting wide open as the critter rolled out onto the stone floor.

The first thing it struck them was how cold it was, fresh air pressing onto their coat and skin for the first time. They began to uncurl themself slowly, moving to a standing position in order to examine their new environment in more detail.

Ember had been fretting over the stone.

He'd found the Moonstone, originally, discarded in rubble--or lost there--when searching for stuff among Orion's ruins. Initially, he had feared reviving it--feared failing, breaking it, shattering the final threads of whatever soul lingered within. So he'd gone to the Wishing Stone--a magic rock that could grant any desire--and asked for this... the assurance that it would live.

His magic had failed it, in reviving whoever it had once belonged to. But he'd felt the spark pop up, the Wishing Stone's gift, guiding his magic and adding its own, and then-... Well, the stone had grown. A moonstone chrysalis had swelled there, expanding out a little across the rock, gleaming in soft whites. But it hadn't hatched, not when it was meant to, and Ember--initially excited--had become deeply worried.

Even... afraid.

Pride had told him that it'd be okay, had even come to look the gemstone over. 'Some children just take longer,' he'd assured Ember, but to the wolf-dragon, the stag had seemed a little concerned. Secretly, like he was afraid to say.

So to hear the cracking, now--Ember shot up from a dozing half-sleep, and scrambled for the stone, never having looked so much like an attentive puppy as he did just then. His eyes were wide, his ears flat back, jaws parted in anticipation.

A child! Instinctively he crept forward, sniffing at the little bundle of fur (my fur! They have my fur!, and the thought was overjoyed and distracted) and then offering a few gentle, snuffling nudges. "Hello?" he offered, gently, and then a new panic set in.

Ember had never been a parent, before.

He had some vague pointers from his own parents, but--suddenly he felt very much on the spot. His main worry, though, was of course for this new child. So--where to start?

"You're safe here," he offered softly, and settled back onto his haunches before sliding down to his chest, lying sphinxlike on the rock. "I'm Ember." Then he gave Spark a moment--to see if the child understood him, and to give them a moment to adjust. Warmth bloomed up in him with a touch of magic, his eyes glowing a little brighter as he offered Spark some heat--he remembered being cold, at his hatching, so maybe Spark was too.

As he did, he looked them over. They were white, flashed over with gold; parts of them he recognized as having come from him. Other parts... Are those feathers? he realized abruptly--it wasn't fur! So had the other parent been a bird, then-? They have no wings, he thought, suddenly and unexpectedly disappointed in the idea that they could never fly together, then. But--what were those crinkly things at its back..? Wait, are those wings? He eyed them over--he'd never seen anything like them before.

How strange-!

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@Spark

Though the little thing had yet to start shivering, they were certainly cold. They stood in limbo, limbs splayed in an awkward array as they wobbled on their feet. Barely noticing their company, they suddenly felt the contact of a colder nose on their sensitive skin, coat held flat by fluid and doing nothing to mute sensation. They yelped, though it was so quiet it could barely be considered a noise. Whoever was examining them rumbled a greeting, though the whelp only responded with a few curious sniffs of their own.

The other beast moved back to sit, before sliding forward again to lay on his stomach, pup[? Chick? Hatchling? Larvae?] now between parallel front limbs. Gold eyes met orange, the child now able to see more than a mass of thick white fur and a large dark nose. They saw a distinctly canine face, crowned by twisting horns and framed by impressive mane, looking upon them gently with an emotion they didn’t understand yet. Another rumble, a name. His eyes glowed like his namesake as a spell was cast, warmth radiating from the wolf-dragon, drawing the creature closer.

A visceral sense of recognition spread through them, looking up at Ember. With a testing buzz of their golden wings, their own magic reached out, as if to say ‘we’re the same.’ An internal warmth spread throughout their own body, eyes aglow with the same fire. A pause, then another movement as they nestled again Ember’s chest, like a coil of pale rope, eyes half lidded as they absorbed their combined body heat.

@Ember

He watched them, hopeful and afraid, and then--they ignited. Just like he did. Not in a blaze of flame, but in a soft and smoldering glow, their warmth equal to his own.

They didn't speak, yet, but that recognition was clear, the meaning was clear: kinship.

His face softened, and his racing heart calmed just a little; his snout dipped down. Behind him, there was the soft sssskkk of scales on rock as his enormous draconic tail tried, and failed, to gently wag. And then the child was sliding up against him, nestling to his chest, curling up to share their warmth.

Okay. It's okay. I can do this, he mused. Ember tried to call on his magic for a little extra sound, a reassuring melody but--nothing came. Nervousness swelled, and for a moment, he wondered what Sir Hammersly would say. No doubt, the thing would berate him for being so tentative, so worried. He took a breath, and tried to be a parent.

Nose dipped down again, and he offered the child one brief rasp of a tongue, like a mother cat. "You have my magic," he informed them, softly. "It's fire. Warm." Then--he felt lost, for a moment.

Ember had never been what one might call a master conversationalist, and now-? With a child he'd only just met, his first child--one who couldn't speak yet, themselves? "...This is a nice world. A wonderful world," he murmured, reassuring. "So-... welcome. There's a lot of things to see, and do. A lot of magic. Many things to create and learn." It was just noise, really--he knew that; he doubted the hatchling would understand most of his words unless they were both very lucky. And by extension they probably wouldn't catch the gist of what he was saying as a whole. But the important thing was his gentle voice, a background sound to lull Spark into knowing they were safe; that they were family.

Although judging by the way the child was curled against him, they already understood.

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@Spark