Dread was usually the quiet sort, lounging and basking on his island or soaring around in pleased silence, listening to the birds flap around him.

Today, though, he was feeling... lonely, almost. He didn't want another dragon around, but--it was children, he thought.

He'd given Pride's rock life, and he'd been thinking ever since that he vaguely missed having hatchlings in his nest. If he'd thought about the implications of introducing more dragons into Leo, he might've reconsidered, but Dread didn't tend to think very far ahead.

He turned, banking, and as if to give voice to his loneliness, he roared: an echoing bellow that shot across Leo's bay, echoing from the rocks and sending the seabirds fleeing.

The voice down below had him turning, peering down. At first he didn't recognize her--okay, so she was still a chicken; the colors, the feathers were the same; but the hat--anyway, it was her voice that he recognized, from a distance.

This puzzled him, a little: the last time he'd met Kalama, she'd sort-of befriended his daughter and then left. After he'd almost eaten her, of course. Why was she yelling at him now?

Dread turned, banking down toward the little speck of angry feathers, and swept downward. Well, she wasn't huge, or a dragon, which in his mind meant she wasn't really a threat; hell, last time she'd had to attack him repeatedly to even provoke him into biting her. Mostly, she was confusing to him--but there was one other thing prickling his spines at her presence.

He had an egg, now.

Well--a rock. It was a rock. But it would be an egg. (Sort of.) Could Kalama fly-? Could she get up there and attack his egg? Well--she hadn't attacked Bug, at least. Dread hesitated, then swept down lower, gliding down to meet Kalama on the sand. His hind feet hit first, chunking deep into the shoreline, leaving pools of water as he took a few steps with his momentum, wings slamming down to take the weight of his upper body. Up close, it was visible that he had changed a little, too: heat shimmered around him, embers sparking into existence from nothing and drifting up and away from his body.

Dread peered down at her.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOUR HEAD?" he demanded, in "greeting." He wasn't sure what the hell she was wearing, or more importantly, why. And anyway: "DON'T START FIGHTS THIS TIME. I HAVE AN EGG. I WANT BABIES. I DON'T WANT MORE JERKS AROUND TO MAYBE EAT MY EGGS OR SOMETHING. THERE'S ALREADY ANOTHER RUDE DRAGON," he added, and glanced around as if checking that the "rude dragon" wasn't en route. He exhaled, a plume of smoke streaming up from each nostril, then blinked back to Kalama.

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO FIGHT?" he added, nonplussed. He could, but as he eyed Kalama, he was doubtful that a rematch would go much differently.

He was confused.

Everything was confusing.

"Whats do you mean whats wrong with my Head? Do you know what this is!?" "NO-" "This is my new face. My better one. I got tired of the old one." Tired of her f- "And whats wrong with your body? You've got weird stuff on you..." "WHAT STUFF?"

It was maybe for the best that he had no time to answer that Kalama--Kalama was the jerk. Instead, her solemn vow that she knew the egg fairy had him startling back. "WHAT IS-" But she was off, again, talking about a child she'd raised.

And how she'd fight him.

And how he was strong (that was nice, and he preened a little, neck arching up and fins raising). And how he could raise her egg.

For a very long moment he stared, blinking. His brain was torn--half wanted to desperately demand to know about the Egg Fairy, and the other half to quickly agree to claim an egg. Eggs were good, babies--he missed having babies--he was...

"WHAT'S AN EGG FAIRY?!" he blurted, that half of his brain abruptly winning out.

He shook himself, then, and blinked a few more times. "I WANT MORE BABIES," he added, in an agreeable enough tone. "BUT WHERE'S THE EGG?"

Dread stared, a bit confused. This was not, in and of itself, anything new or unusual, but in this case it was baffling because it was Kalama that had confused him. Had she used intelligence and wit he would have been irritated and brushed her off but this nonsensical babbling had just the right tone to convince him that she knew secrets that he did not, fascinating secrets. He shifted in place, from wing to wing, with uneasy greed. Nostrils flared. Ember eyes narrowed slightly, and his neck-fins rose.

"I WANT AN EGG FAIRY," he declared, loudly petulant.

Then Kalama was challenging him. Telling him to have the first "move." He wasn't sure what that meant, and he hesitated; literally any attack that the dragon would make had the potential to destroy Kalama.

But--she just went back into her gemstone, right? So... it was okay, probably. Maybe? Maybe that was what she meant--just to beat her again, and then he could take the rock?

With an internal shrug, Dread reared his head farther back, and inhaled.

Embers gleamed, for an instant, behind his teeth.

Then his head snapped down and forward, jaw springing wide, a massive torrent of flames scorching out in roaring, crackling heat toward Kalama.

Was this "winning?"

Dread pulled back, blinking, to see what the result might be, the flame dying down to streams of smoke rising from his jaws and nostrils.

Dread stared.

For a moment, there was just the sound of quietly crackling flame, the rush of the breakers, and the distant cry of the seabirds. He tilted his head, and peered, and as the smoke cleared and the embers cooled, he realized that Kalama was a rock, again.

Three thoughts ran through his mind, in quick succession.

OH NO. followed by, THIS ISN'T WHAT SHE MEANT, WAS IT? and then, WHERE'S THE EGG FAIRY NOW?! The dragon, perched beside the growing flint, looked around as if hoping half-heartedly that an Egg Fairy would now appear. He'd already forgotten what they were, or what they were meant to do, but-...

Well, there wasn't one. He was starting to get an inkling that maybe Kalama had meant something else..? He was struggling with the idea of maybe thinking about possibly grasping the concept of guilt for a second, but then it passed, and he was scooping up the chrysalis from the sand. If it were any other substrate it'd have fused, already, but a moment later he had the chrysalis in his talons.

Almost as an afterthought he remembered the stone she'd offered. It took him a moment to find it past the blackened mess of beach, but he did; and with surprising delicacy he lifted this into his jaws.

He'd taken wing a moment later, leaving the site of what looked like a lightning strike, and flapped his way back up to his den. There he laid the chicken's chrysalis carefully among his possessions, in a place he'd cleared earlier that day--it could fuse there, and rest, under his protection. Maybe he'd apologize once she was out--he still wasn't sure quite what else she could've meant by 'fight me.' The last time, one bite had done it. Apparently, the helmet wasn't fireproof, either.

Oh well.

He turned his attention last to the little stone. He placed it at the other end of the nest from the growing raspite; it was beautiful, with its glittering, fiery-gold hues. Kalama's stone was dark grey flint, but Dread nudged it just as affectionately.

Babies-!

He would have hatchlings here, again! And a strange excitement bloomed in him as he realized that this time, he'd be the one here for their hatching. He'd seen one baby hatch--but now there would be two! What a lucky day this was.

He pressed his snout to the speck of flint, closing his eyes carefully (for he thought this was part of the process, now) and concentrating. The 'ocean' wind gently ruffled the fins along his neck, and he exhaled softly.

He felt the magic flow out of him, life seeping away to infuse the gemstone with something... new, something powerful. It felt stronger than the first one, and he wondered if perhaps Kalama's power was stronger than the raspite's had been.

Whatever the case, he was immediately the broody parent: shuffling his treasures carefully around the gemstones, as if to hide and keep them warm. He spent almost an hour rearranging things, fussing over Kalama's chrysalis and the stones. He felt like he should bring all his treasures up here, and maybe a bunch of dried grass for shade and warmth and... soft... stuff, and maybe some food too--well, once they were hatched, but he'd feed them so much!

And he'd look after them, and teach them, and...