18.Feb.21, 02:21 AM
The pie smelled so good! And tasted better! He licked his fingers as he gave half of the handheld pastry to Zarel. At least she had backed away from the egg. Eyes growing wide in disbelief at her questions, he stifled a laugh. “A bronze silly! I have been so great in all of my classes, and helped some riders oil dragons, and even helped clean up after messy creché, that the candidate master was so pleased he offered me a bronze!” Well…At least, that’s what T’pel had told him. And he was fine with that. He had been working hard. He bit his lip. He didn’t want to think about that, though. An egg was an egg, and a bronze was even better. “What, can’t you tell by the color shell?”
He watched her face fall slightly and suddenly felt kinda bad. She wouldn’t know, would she? She hadn’t been around them before. “It’s okay, Zarrie. They do kinda look alike if you haven’t seen them much, especially bronzes and browns.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “I got to see almost the whole clutch when I went to pick it up with T’pel!”
Hunched forward, bent towards the hearth, his stomach took that moment to offer a threatening grumble. Uh oh. Maybe food hadn’t been a good idea. Or was it the coffee?
Rumble rumble.
Oh no.
His eyes went wide as a horrible hurt went all the way through his small stomach, cramping up his insides and making him wince. Desperately, he looked at the egg, sitting so serenely in the little pot of sand by the hearth. He looked at Zarel, then over toward the privy . He could wait, right? He was fine.
Rumble rumble.
Maybe not. His gut twisted hard, and he stood up, doubled over, his arms again wrapped around his middle. “Zarrie, watch the egg! I gotta go!” Half-waddling toward the necessary, and the pot waiting within, he cast nervous glances back toward the girl and his precious egg, groaning…did it just wiggle? No way. It hadn’t moved all day. It would be fine for a couple minutes. Or more. Another wave of awful cramps made his insides make awful noises, and he groaned, frustrated. “Let me know if it does anything!”
He watched her face fall slightly and suddenly felt kinda bad. She wouldn’t know, would she? She hadn’t been around them before. “It’s okay, Zarrie. They do kinda look alike if you haven’t seen them much, especially bronzes and browns.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “I got to see almost the whole clutch when I went to pick it up with T’pel!”
Hunched forward, bent towards the hearth, his stomach took that moment to offer a threatening grumble. Uh oh. Maybe food hadn’t been a good idea. Or was it the coffee?
Rumble rumble.
Oh no.
His eyes went wide as a horrible hurt went all the way through his small stomach, cramping up his insides and making him wince. Desperately, he looked at the egg, sitting so serenely in the little pot of sand by the hearth. He looked at Zarel, then over toward the privy . He could wait, right? He was fine.
Rumble rumble.
Maybe not. His gut twisted hard, and he stood up, doubled over, his arms again wrapped around his middle. “Zarrie, watch the egg! I gotta go!” Half-waddling toward the necessary, and the pot waiting within, he cast nervous glances back toward the girl and his precious egg, groaning…did it just wiggle? No way. It hadn’t moved all day. It would be fine for a couple minutes. Or more. Another wave of awful cramps made his insides make awful noises, and he groaned, frustrated. “Let me know if it does anything!”