She rolls the thought over in her mind for a moment, considering it; is she half dragon? What are they, really?

She’s never put much thought into what she is; she has wings for flying and fur for when it gets cold and teeth for hunting, and that’s all she needs. She’s not one for philosophy… although the question is interesting.

Dragons sound… powerful, fierce; she certainly admires the claws that Bug possesses, not to mention her sheer bulk. She likes the thought of being half-dragon.

Her train of thought is interrupted, however, by the youngest gembound finally coming out of its shell—Bug is distracted by it, too, from the looks of things, and Tarragon pulls herself closer for a good look, tongue flicking on instinct as she wonders what she’s freed from the chrysalis.

It’s—large, yes, even compared to the little dragon next to her, but spindly. She can’t help but notice how unsteady they are on their spindly little legs as they try to drag themselves out of what remains of their little gemshell; how clumsy they seem with their size!

Are all children like this, awkward and unwieldy?

It’s charming, really, and she can’t help but look on with a feeling of fondness stirring in her chest as the little gembound seems to lose their balance, stumbling backwards before crashing into the floor below them.

She laughs softly, her voice tinged with a hiss. ”Take your time, little one,” she says, then glances over at Bug, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she takes in her excitement.

Oh, she loves children.

”Are dragonsss as big as thiss?” she asks her, curious. The newborn is a good size taller than her; she can’t imagine how big she’ll get as an adult.

When I speak.

When I think.

@Bug

Bug plodded a couple steps closer, eyes widening, as the child first stepped forth and then toppled.

"Hello!" she offered, and Umbra's kind expression and laughter left her glancing at the bat, then beaming. How nice she was; and how adorable this completely ungainly hatchling!

Bug leaned forward, offering a nose-to-nose sniff toward Faraday, and then sat back on her haunches a step or two away. She thought, for a beat, about Umbra's question, and she looked the bat over, appraising her size, before responding. "I'm not even as big as Dad's foot," she offered, and then squinted--was that right? "I mean--no, yeah! His foot's bigger than me."

Things would have been much, much simpler if Bug had seen a bat, as yet, but Dread had never brought her one of those to eat; he'd been sickened, once, by eating one, and he'd never gone near them again. Bug knew this, but she had no idea what bats looked like.

Her attention shifted back to Faraday. Her urge to entertain the child, and soothe them, along with a sense of mischief, flickered up. She liked to bat around small objects (as any good cat-hybrid would) and chasing after little sounds; perhaps Faraday might like that, too?

She concentrated, and then a small, giggling whisper shifted and echoed here and there over the rocks, quietly playful and without obvious source.

bg texture by Eddi van W. on Flickr

@Faraday