SALAMANDER HATCHING -- New Salamander Acquisition Thread

[fluo]

River-Swollen was back at it again. To date she had three salamanders and while they were  a handful, she was happy and resplendent in her swamp blessings. And so when she came across a salamander egg, she could not point to who it belonged to or where it came from. Like fairies, it popped up overnight and refused to go away. Taking great care to keep these away from her other salamanders, she chose a warm & wet area fenced in by a small ring of rocks. She slept near the nest and when she woke up, the other salamanders formed their own partial circle. Eager for what came next, she left to forage.

[fluo]

Since her salamanders came to her fully formed and with their own mind, she wasn't quite sure what they ate as young things or even now. They slipped away to feast on their own. At times they'd nibble on her fruit scraps, but her days with Glossbones were full of activities and tasks for their skulls that idle time was a rarity. Still, blessed as they were with an egg, she collected a small assortment of edibles she might enjoy and each time she was gone, a salamander would be left behind and a larger ring of sticks should any salamander or creature have untoward thoughts.

[fluo]

19, 9, 2, 1, 23

An amorous sugar glider has mistaken you for its long lost love. It is glued to your side and won't stop chattering, barking, chirping, or sneezing its love song to you.
A heavy lighting storm rolls in suddenly, and a fierce bolt splits the ground not far from you ominously.
A cute mongoose offers you a gleaming apple while its friend tries to steal your egg.
A bird flies down and tries to make off with your egg; fend it off before it does too much damage.
To help your egg grow, you sing it a quiet song, and imagine that it responds.

What a whirlwind time it had been! River-Swollen was glad she had the foresight to erect the double rings of rocks and sticks. It helped fortitude the slimy egg and when the storm rolled in, the salamander egg thankfully did not roll away with runoff to where the lightning bolt struck. Few survived that, especially a still soft creature not yet of this world. Then the other creatures came and both she and her three salamanders had a challenging time fending off their attacks. Looking back, bedraggled, muddy and sore as they were, she could laugh about their bad luck. It was as if the swamp was making up for their good fortune of finding the salamander egg that the MotherFather had tricks to settle the score. First the annoyingly persistent sugar glider and its loud chatter. And then came the mischievous mongoose with sly eyes and thieving friends. She at least had some respect for the bird. It was direct in its approach and efficient. It did not waste her time. It was a day and then some. Tired and wary, she and her salamanders settled down for the night but not before she sang a sweet lullaby to lull them into fitful sleep. Who knew what tomorrow would bring. Hopefully Glossbones and his green crew would offer ample protection if they arrived in time back from wherever they went off to.

[fluo]

Three blue heads greeted her with one green off to the side not so far away. The new one, though smaller, was an inbetween blue shade of her ice and fire salamanders. It poked its tongue out inquisitively before lickings its eyeball. Wary of the puddle it sat in, River-Swollen feverently hoped it was not urine. It didn't smell of urine. It wasn't yellow. She sniffed it once more, her snuffle scaring the thing while it ran over the other salamanders and tried to scale a tree. It ran everywhere, and thus its names fit into place. Everywhere the water salamander would survive and with three other salamanders to wear it out, River-Swollen closed her eyes once more to catch up on sleep.

[Gl!tch~]

An egg. It always started with an egg, didn't it? Caiman eggs, kimeti sacs, you name it. Tidal Terror once again found herself staring down something holding life with a decision to make.

She knew it wasn't a caiman egg; too big, for one. And Snapjaw would be killing her right now over it if it was one of its brood. Too small to be a kin. Touching it, it felt too...mushy...to make for a good meal. Instead, she found herself curious. What could be hiding in there?

She had the time to find out. There were no obelisks causing trouble, or foals, or even Parrot Head, so she could take it to the beach where it was warm and dry to help it incubate.

And so Tidal Terror went to bury the egg in the sand of the warm beach, similarly to the turtles she had seen do so on the beach (Patient, meanwhile, seemed aloof about the egg as well. None of her pets seemed interested in claiming it as their own). The sun would keep it toasty, and the sand would keep it safe. She dug a stick in nearby to mark where she buried the egg in case she had trouble finding it later.

[Gl!tch~]

With that, she tucked herself in to wait and rest. She took the sun's rays in on her flank and watched the waves down at the shore. Once in a while she would stand to stretch. Her pets would also come to seek her attention. Sunset would want cuddles, Headstrong would want to play, Snapjaw would want to share its kills. Things like that. But she did not stray from her spot, and any time one of her pets started nosing around the buried egg, she would scare them off with a stern noise or hoof stomp.

[Gl!tch~]

The totoma took to humming a tune for the egg as the morning passed by, much like she did for her kimeti foals only so long ago. It soothed her, as well, and before she knew it she fell into a little nap.

When she awoke, it was about midday, and waking up wasn't of her own choice. She heard noises nearby, growls and hisses, and saw big, bulky lynxes on the dunegrass. They were fighting it out among each other. She stood up, ready to defend her egg. Before she took too many steps closer, Snapjaw slid in and started biting at them. Everything knew to avoid a caiman when possible, so the lynxes ran off into the swamp to continue their beef elsewhere. Relieved, she thanked the blue lizard and returned to her resting spot.

As she continued her watch into the evening, the sand around the egg started to move. Reminded of the many times she had seen baby turtles hatch, she got excited. Tidal Terror braced herself for a baby whatever to appear...then nothing. Alarmed, she dug a little bit towards the egg. It was still there, in one piece, and still shifting once in a while, but barely. She could not see much of the life inside, so she would leave it be for now.

Night fell, and eventually Tidal Terror had to sleep once more. As she dozed under the stars, she heard the sand moving around where her egg was, and other unusual noises. Looking up, she saw floxes digging the egg out. "No!"

Upon seeing her, they grabbed it and dashed away, to drop in a plant closer to the swamp edge. She chased after them, unsteady at first from going to long without moving, but eventually caught up and retrieved the egg. She checked for any injuries, then gently put it back in its sand nest. Now the totoma stayed closer and more vigilant than ever.

The next morning, a hoof poked at her flank. Some of her grandchildren, having heard some rumors that she was guarding an egg. They wanted to see it. She told them no, and they did not like that answer. As she stood firm, they decided to do what she taught them: headbutt the problem in their way. But she was a totoma, and they were not, and once they realized that they were not about to knock her over anytime soon, she chased them off. Still, she was proud of them and their efforts. Too bad they were being little brats, though.

[Gl!tch~]

She couldn't stay awake forever, and each time she had fallen asleep in the last day she was startled awake. Exhausted, her eyes closed and through the rest of the morning, she finally rested.

When she awoke once more, the sand nearby was shifting again. Something was pushing its way out from where the egg had been!

[Gl!tch~]

Yellow, flickering flames surrounded the creature. It looked much like Parrot Head's drippy salamander. And yet completely different!

"So that is what you are! Amazing, you little thing." A literally hot thing at that. It would need to be named. And maybe kept away from her pets that would likely get burned off of it. And maybe kept away from dunegrass that it might set on fire.

She would....have to figure it out, for sure.

[Total word count: 864 words]

[anemosagkelos]

"How fascinating!" had been the exact reaction upon finding such odd eggs. Though she was young, she knew that usually eggs had a far more harder shell and this was why many hatched creatures needed a point—an egg-tooth—to crack through their protective receptacles. These, however, were so opposite that she doubted there could be any hard tip or else the sac would rupture prematurely. It had been a difficult task to maneuver them into the carrier in hopes of transporting them elsewhere.

The carrier she had made used part of the hard shell that shielded a Totoma's head—she did not like to think of how this piece of plating had become unattached from its owner. Such thoughts rumbled up ghastly visions that continued to haunt her. A boy in blood. A child in white. The gaping maw that came to tear them apart and swallow them whole. It was best not to dwell on such visions, regardless that they had been a large part of her naming dream.

The shard of bone had been entangled in broad leaves that were woven together, though not well, before vines had been tied to make it easier to carry. The idea of balancing it precariously on her back—she was very sure that they would be ruined, even with the soft grasses she had collected to cushion and cradle the eggs. Hero had, of course, been able to fashion a braided cored that fitted tightly around the transportation device and he'd taken to carrying it himself. (She was only a little annoyed; she was perfectly capable of carrying it herself.)

She hummed, thoughtful, as they approached a nice warm environ near a tributary that kept the ground moist. The air hung with evaporation and she wanted so dearly to take a nap in the warmth. She imagined it was like being encased in the womb and she felt a tinged of sorrow that her own had died. That she would never know her.

"Here, Hero," she shook herself from the melancholia and smiled at her steadfast companion. "I shall try to hatch one here," and she knew from his brow that he was already looking for the dangers that lurked. She ignored it and turned to make a nest for the lone egg she would be attempting to hatch on her own.

It was a higher spot that she chose, eventually, against the western base of a strong tree. It was heavily armored, rough bark like that of a mangrove tree, but this ones branches swooped down in long graceful arcs and hung with leaves like that of a wisteria tree. It had no flowers right now which was all the better as she need not have anything else attracting predators. A willow was quite idyllic, really, and assured that there was no rot, no visibly hanging branches that might fall upon a nest of her creation, she set to digging out a small divot to place grasses and leaves and other useful debris to protect and warm the lone egg.

Hero tried once, visibly to help, but her stern glower left no room for argument and they settled into their routine. He stood guard, when she was watching at least, and she worked. They both knew he was finding pieces to aid her build; he couldn't help himself and she could not help the feeling it evoked of others thinking her helpless (blast that naming dream and all the insecurities it had born into her bones). Instead, she pretended not to know; ignorance is bliss, someone had once said. She wondered if it was true.

Breath of the Wild arranged a large mouthful of grasses into the scooped out hole before making a layer of insulation from cattails that Hero had somehow sliced open. All that was left was a bunch of smoother leaves to keep extra moisture out of her nicely curated nest. And for Hero to leave.

"I know how much you'd prefer to stay here, but I will be fine without you for one day. From my observations and research, at this point of growth, it takes roughly a day or two for them to hatch," she reassured him, "And you have your own egg to hatch." She waited for the argument to come but there was only the hesitation before he nodded reluctantly.

"All right," he eventually acquiesced, "I'll return her to meet you after mine has hatched."

Wild smiled, "I'll be waiting. I promise."

750

[anemosagkelos]

04 | A group of furbies try to scamper off with your egg. Fortunately for you, there's no ringleader and they're clumsy.
05 | A territory dispute between two lynxes comes close to where you're protecting your egg.
04 | A group of furbies try to scamper off with your egg. Fortunately for you, there's no ringleader and they're clumsy.
24 | When the light hits just so, you see something moving under the slightly-translucent skin of the egg.
10 | A sudden downpour causes you lose your grip on the leaf bundle the egg is in; it starts to roll away down the hill.

Breath of the Wild would never admit that nerves made her tremble and frown, once his back was turned and he had walked off in search of a place for the second egg. It'd taken careful consideration on her part on where to try such an epic task and with summer fast approaching the need for water, and, perhaps even more so, for ice, had swayed her to choose this locale and explain to Hero where he should try his own hand at the process. At least if even one of them succeeded, they'd have a more comfortable time dealing with the heat wave that was to come. They could worry about fire when the weather turned cooler.

Despite all her efforts, she was a mess. She had had nothing unpleasant in this life and yet she was still traumatized for lack of any other word. It was woven into her psyche and she began to mutter to herself, "I can do this. I need only guard it for a time and then it shall hatch and all this worry will be for naught." It sounded so convincing but she didn't believe it. Most of all because she was saying it to herself. She sighed, a terrible feeling of failure hitching into her throat. Why did she always feel so small and useless? She had va—twigs snapped behind her and she turned to find a terror of furbies roughly exploring the nest she had so kindly created for the egg.

Wild felt her body contort, one side seemed ready to charge forward but the other remained stock still. It took a moment for the frozen doe to leap into action, literally, as she forced herself forward, mouth set in a tight line of determination.

"Hey! Stop that!" she commanded, a natural thought that of course made no different to the critters. In fact, to her utmost horror, it seemed to attract a second group of furbies and she couldn't help the small shriek that erupted. Frustration, fear, it was all the same in the moment. Blast, she felt the irritation crawl up her spine, as she took in the motley crews of nuisances. The first group, a strange catastrophe of red, yellow, black and white, each had a face with a strange symbol painted on their faces in one of the four colors that seemed to symbolize their sub-species. There were fragments of it that made her blood turn cold and she had to charge at them, reminding herself of how small they were, to avoid an episode. She could not afford, she would not allow, herself to fall to trauma.

The first group of furbies froze in their movements, as wide eyes turned to stare at the doe, before deciding better of it and running for the hills. At least they had some sense.

The other group remained unfazed, but the closer she approached, the more she realized these creatures were less of a nuisance. Over-jubilant, the pastel quad seemed to be trying to rectify the mess. Their additions, however, left something to be decided, as they dropped gemstones and rocks and something that glittered in the sunlight upon the nest. She cringed, worry they would kill the not-yet born lizard that she was protecting.

"I, um, thank you for your kindness in your repairs," she started which caused the group of four to still, comically. They turned in slow motion to her, stared, and she swore they vanished in mid-air. She felt her mouth drop, gaped, and then let the confusion trail along in her head as she approached the nest and began to secure it.

If this hadn't been a life or death situation for the creature yet to be born, she would have liked to attempted to study the furbies. They were a curious case of horrifying and intelligent that seemed, at least alone, to be of no real harm to a kin. And yet she rather doubted that they hadn't harmed or even killed one in their existence in the swamp.

It was hours of quiet that lulled her into a false sense of security. Or a stupor of research questions that she could not yet, or even ever, answer. There was a certain callous, gruesome sibling of knowledge that she did not have the stomach for and could it be worth knowing if it came at such costs? Not for her was all that she could decide. And it was this why Hero worried so about her. Not because she was weak or inept, but because there was decidedly too much roaming about her own mind. If not for the yowls . . .

Wild sighed. Goodness, didn't the spectrals in this swamp ever cease their communication? They were all very interesting, of course, but they had such a tendency to shriek and moan and lament that she found herself exhausted if she tried to listen to them for long. It wasn't uncommon for owlcats, spectral or otherwise, to yowl at all times of the day for all manners of reason. She'd long since stopped trying to decipher them, as a whole. Their wants were too varied to ever be a simple one emitted vocalization.

As she rose, considering how she would deter the continued cacophony of sound, a thud made her jump. She gasped as a large lynx rolled to its feet, eyes narrowing as it looked for its enemy. There was no shame in shrieking when the other lynx burst out of the brush and she clumsily tried to back towards the nest to protect it. This had not been in the initial look over of territories!

There was no way that she could fend off two lynxes, not when they were already so clearly ready to defend to the death. If anything, she thought, she would have to relocate the egg to a safer location and hope that it did not interfere with the incubation. She'd never hatched an egg before and had little idea, besides her observations from others, of how long it need or if it could even be moved in that time frame. If not, this was going to end badly no matter what she did. As of now, she had to assume it still had a chance to hatch.

Carefully, she inched her way towards the nest as to avoid becoming their combined target. She felt no relief when she was close enough to begin preparations for in this she had to be careful but quick. She couldn't risk dawdling but she did not want to jeopardize the egg either. If only she'd kept the carrier with her instead of letting Hero go off with it; she was going to have to make another one, or dozen, of those in some manner. For now, she uncovered the egg and pulled the leaf tips up to form a bundle. She had no choice but to take it in her mouth and then she ran from the scene, intent on being gone before they could notice her.

The ground under her hooves dented as she thundered away from the lynxes, unsure of exactly where else she could bunker down. Was it too late to find another habitat entirely? Or would that end any chance of hatching? She didn't dare find out which left her wandering in loose circles as she began to slow, mind focusing on each area she passed to see if it might provide a short term home for the egg she carried.

The wetness in the air seemed to increase and she felt the pressure pop. Rain, heavy and slick, dropped like a waterfall and she could not have done anything to prevent it. Just as the sudden weight could not have been accounted for as it tugged the leaf bundle from her mouth and plopped down into a stream. It didn't stop the upset or the doubts in herself from rising, but she couldn't just let it float off. Not when this stream canted downward so sharply.

Breath of the Wild lunged forward and dropped her entire body across the stream. The leaf bundle bobbed along the splashed wave before settling against her side and she laughed, relieved. It was not a comfortable position, really. Wet all around, tired, but as she nosed the bundle, she found that the egg was intact.

An errant beam of setting sunlight caught the translucent surface and she could see something moving within. She felt relief. It lived. And soon, it would hatch.

1422

[Lirilei]

Nature Sways A Broken Mind had found the egg while he was collecting water to make sure his family stayed healthy and weren't thirsty. It was something he'd never seen before, and so he stood there staring at it a little, more than a little confused by it. Finally a more... with it... part of his brain was able to reason out it was an egg. He'd seen bird eggs before, he'd seen some hatch open. This was just a very large, grossly gooey bird egg.

With no bird around to sit on it. "Do I need to sit on it!?" there was a soft shudder of disgust from him at the idea. "No. No. Back home. Back where it's cool and wet and oh so green. We can watch it there." he looked around and managed to find a large sturdy leaf to carefully scoop it onto, before he wandered back to his little home, the water he'd come for left behind forgotten for the time being. He'd come back for it, eventually but first he had to get this large, weird bird egg back home so he could take care of it, since clearly its mother wasn't up to the job herself. Terrible, really.

Once he was back to the wonderful shady grove he called home he set about setting that large, sturdy leaf somewhere he saw about gathering up more to pile around the egg. Forget sitting on it. He had too much to do. But he could keep it covered and cared for. Of course using his own plant family wasn't happening so he scoured the nearby area looking for more leaves, and grasses, pretty flowers, and most importantly the water he'd left behind before.

Coming back home he set about watering his family, and then slowly, lovingly covering the egg with smaller leaves and grasses, watching it stick to the gooey shell, before layering over slightly larger ones, water being dribbled on each layer to help them all stick together. This would work he reasoned.

[Lirilei]

16. Howling winds blow through your nest and keep knocking your egg out of place.
3. You doze off and mischievous floxes steal and hide your egg in a pitcher plant not too far off.
7. Confused marine iguanas surround you, mistaking your egg for one of theirs.
10. A sudden downpour causes you lose your grip on the leaf bundle the egg is in; it starts to roll away down the hill.
10. A sudden downpour causes you lose your grip on the leaf bundle the egg is in; it starts to roll away down the hill.

He finally got everything settled for the egg, and had settled down to relax as well, talking to the flowers, and plants and tree he called family, when a strong wind started up, making his carefully covered egg come uncovered to his dismay a loud "HEY!" at the wind and scrambled to his hooves to grab it again, the large leaf held between his teeth as he scooped it back up.

A sound of triumph sounded, but was quickly dashed, choking and spluttering on the rain pouring down on him, ripping the leaf from his teeth and sending the egg rolling away. "No, nonononono! Come back little sticky egg!" he cried out and ran after the egg, managing to find a smaller than before leaf to gently roll it onto, trying to ignore the marine iguanas around him, trying to take the egg. "No! MINE!" he stomped his hoof to scatter then, a huff of annoyance as they turned tail and ran. Good!

Slowly, carefully his way was made back to the now destroyed nest and he carefully layered the leaves back on though most looked worse for the wear at this point between wind and rain making sure it was well covered again. Finally with a deep, tired sigh he settled again, watching the egg, and ignoring the constant dripping of water hitting him on the face. He was used to that sort of thing, though all the excitement found him worn out and soon dozing off.

Waking a short time later he realized the egg was missing. Again. Frantic searching revealed unusual paw prints, and he followed them as they cross crossed the area that was home before finally locating the egg in a pitcher plant. A sigh of relief found him as he found another large leaf to collect the egg in, trying his best not to damage the plant or egg in his gathering.

Finally, bundle in tow he started back toward the nest spot....only to feel a deluge again, a cry of dismay as the egg was ripped away again and sent rolling. He wasn't sure how long he'd been watching this egg, but it felt like forever! The sky being dark and full of water meant he couldn't track the time of day.

Slowly he trudged after the egg and recollected it, tiredly making his way back and collapsing down, covering the egg with the large leaf as it was now all he had and carefully curled around it. Nothing could make it roll away now, right?

[Lirilei]

When morning came he was still curled around the egg, though there was movement from it, causing him to move away from the egg, watching with wide, curious eyes. Slowly, the gooey shell gave way and he watched a single green salamander crawl free of it. Nature couldn't help but stare in awe at the green lizard that he had protected. Though after a moment there was a confused "Lizard....not bird...??" from the buck as he stared long and hard at it.

He had expected a bird, not this, but he liked how pretty and green it looked. Like grass on a spring day. Bright, and tender. "Pretty." the word was murmured some as he watched the salamander fully emerge and make it's self at home right there with the rest of his plants and flowers. A new member of his family. It wasn't a bird, and certainly not a plant but it reminded him of grass so it was something, at least.

(929 words total)

[wander]

"Somewhere" in the swamp, this time around, was in a little hidden field - just dry enough from the swamp to grow a remarkably lush little garden, and in that garden was a little happy verdant salamander named Yarrow, who spent most of it's happy little time growing flowers. Yarrow, was not, owned by Dawn, but the field was his, and he was a hermit. Except, nowadays he lived alongside his grand-daughter Only for an Hour, and her permanent life-mate, Do the Honours. So, maybe not so much a hermit, nowadays, but he still subscribed to the hermit life.

Yarrow, as it would be, was Honours'.

Which ultimately meant to Dawn, that this sticky, weird egg that was under a rather impressive plant, was probably Yarrow's. Maybe.

He had heard that salamanders always bred in the wild, and were as changing as the seasons, but he really never expected to having one so close to him would somehow procure another so close. Nodding, Dawn decided to he try his luck with this little goopy, weird egg, and maybe he could bring a little joy to his grandchildren. He ... liked the first one, maybe two was the charm.

Collecting the little snot glob of life, he slowly built it a little nesting for it - warm and wet, he had heard somewhere that it usually procured more water-loving salamanders, so he worked diligently. A little bit of warm kelp and sand from the river that was close to his home, and some dark rocks to let it soak in the daylight while it still lingered, so he didn't have to constantly pour body heat in to it.

Hunkering down, he quietly started his afternoon, and evening, with his new little ... great-grand-salamander. Yeah.