Broken Wings

One Choice

In one paw, this was her first egg. She was its mother, and all she wanted was to protect, love, and care for it; bring the little dragon it contained into the world and teach it all the beautiful and terrible things about life. In the other paw though, she knew that was a dream. An alluring, happy dream, but nothing more. Because she was alone.

Even though she could keep her eggs safe and warm until they hatched, she knew there was no way she could do both of the critical jobs of dragon rearing by herself. Especially since it was mid spring now, and her eggs would hatch in late fall. Her little ones would need food almost constantly in their first few moons, during winter, a time she often struggled to feed herself. Their lives would be filled with the pain of empty bellies when she couldn't find enough food for them, the fear of being alone when she had to leave them to hunt, and the terror of being hunted if something else found them while she was gone. A miserable existence, made all the worse for how short it would likely be. And it would be entirely her fault. First for selfishly chasing the thrill of mating when neither she nor her drake had been inclined to remain mates, then for being too weak to make the hard choice that logic dictated she make now. Even though it would break her heart, she knew she should take her precious egg out to the forest without delay and abandon it there: end its life before it was even aware of being alive and spare it the torturous existence it was almost certain to endure otherwise. But almost was not enough.

No matter how likely, how certain the fate of her first clutch seemed, her heart clung to the maybe's and what if's that would lead to happiness for her and her hatchlings despite all odds. What if her drake came back? He had seemed like a decent, even a good dragon to her. For a male. And surely he wanted a mate and hatchlings someday. If he returned, he would leap to help her raise their children. Her lips curled into a snarl. If he didn't, she'd slash his wings and ground him so he would at least be useful as a nest-guard and hatchling monitor.

If he didn't come back, maybe she could convince another dragon to help her, if only through the winter. By then, at least her hatchlings would be able to go for a day or two without getting dangerously hungry. Or perhaps she would encounter a sylvan and get it to create a spell to hide her hatchlings from predators like the Veil hid everything from humans. Or... dozens of possibilities danced before her mind's eye, none particularly likely but so numerous that at least one had to manifest. Right?

She shook her head, finally taking her eyes off of the little pearlescent orb and raising her head up off the ground. The shadows in the cavern had shifted dramatically since she'd last noticed them. She wondered how long she'd been laying there, lost in her own mind. She still didn't know what she was going to do, but she had decided that she didn't have to decide right then. The egg wouldn't even need tending until the rest of her clutch arrived, so she had at least until tomorrow.

She stood up and stretched her stiff limbs, intending to head out into the forest and rip down a few large tree limbs to prepare her incubation fire in case she decided to keep the eggs. Then a cramp struck her lower abdomen. She whipped her head around to stare at her hind legs as her body prepared to release her second egg, and all the shock, horror, and disbelief she'd experienced the first time surged back all at once. Oh no. What have I done?

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Summer had come and was now yielding to fall. Anea still had her eggs. And she was still trying to decide whether to allow them to hatch. There were three. A small clutch, but even one was too many for a single dragon. They were buried in the living cinders of her incubation fire. She had tended those flames masterfully for the past several moons, keeping them from getting too hot or too cool by carefully managing the depth of the ashes separating the eggs from the embers and burning coals above. It was far more work than just taking care of herself on her own had been, and this was the easiest part of raising a family. She struggled to imagine having to hunt for herself and three hungry babies who couldn't go a single day without food, while also keeping a fire burning in her cavern so they wouldn't get too cold while she was hunting.