The next time he checked the egg, it was wriggling visibly, the shell bulging from within. He came to a stop in front of the nest and watched it with wide eyes, amazed in spite of himself as he watched the salamander within work its way free of the egg. It occurred to him, rather late, that dry grass might not be the best spot to hatch a salamander, and he hastily set himself to the task of tearing out the grass around the nest he'd made, making a circle of bare ground around it. Even as he finished, the salamander tore its way free of its shell and stretched its limbs. The fire on its back caught in the dry grass nest, and Seared Earth watched with mild embarrassment as the nest became a small bundle of flame, in which the salamander seemed to be content to remain, basking in the warmth.

The grass and loose bark burned out quickly enough, and the salamander wiggled loose of the ashes and made its way over to Seared Earth, looking up at him expectantly. The flames on its back flickered and settled down, and the heat rolling off it tamed to a comfortable warmth. He blinked down at it, proud and chagrined and suddenly uncertain. "What do you even eat?" he asked it. It stood up on its hind legs and attempted to climb his leg; with a sigh, he lay down, gingerly allowing it to climb up onto his back, twining itself between his spines. "Guess I'm responsible for you now," Seared Earth told the salamander. "I suppose I'll call you Grassfire."

The salamander flicked its tongue at him, unperturbed.

(- 5-7: red fire)

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... _lolli.gif[/imgleft]

Pear Flower stared down at what she could only assume was an egg- It had been hidden in her favorite napping spot, just warm enough from the sun but dappled in shade, and she hadn't noticed it until she lay her head down and felt something warm and gooey touch her ear. A startled, undignified, scream left her throat and in a panic she'd nearly crushed it underfoot. Luckily, she thanked the Motherfather, common sense had won out before she'd done so. She reached down and pressed her nose to it. It smelled damp, and very organic. Definitely an egg, though she was still unsure what kind of animal would lay such a thing. A small lizard or amphibian of some kind, like a frog or a- She started could it be she'd found a salamander egg?

Now, though, she was left with a slightly slimy egg of less indeterminate origin to ... what, care for? She'd barely cared for the eggs of her own children, and they hadn't been a surprise. The soft pink doe pursed her lips in thought. She had just been thinking she wanted a familiar, and maybe this was exactly such a blessing. A personalized gift from the Swamp. Just for her to congratulate her on the latest phenomenal clutch of children she'd brought into the world. Yes, yes, that must be it. She was being rewarded for her contributions. As was her right. She knew no kin, personally, that had a salamander. She'd be the only one in her family and small circle of friends. She might be the only one in her much wider collection of acquaintances! A smile bright enough to rival the sun lit up her face. "Oh," she breathed happily, "joyous day!"

With a satisfied swish of her tail, Pear Flower delicately lifted the egg in her mouth and moved to where she thought she might be most comfortable if she were a small squishy egg- Right to the edge of the slightly deeper eddy of water that cut through the wild flower field next to the hill she'd made her home. Here she could keep the egg cool and wet, to stop it from drying out and killing the poor darling inside. She gathered reeds, wet grasses, mud, and then decorated the little nest with flowers in light blues and purples. It would not do to raise her new Very Special friend in a nest more suited for the common rabble. This, whatever it was, was going to be treated as a leader. Just like she had been.

Setting her new child down in it's bed Pear shifted her body down and around the nest, her chin resting on the edge. She'd need to protect it from all sorts of predators and weather, she imagined. She had to admit she was also concerned that her dear brother might come along and assume this treasure was for him. And it most certainly was not. So, sit with it she would. Maybe even sing to it until it hatched? She couldn't say.

All she could say is that she hoped this wouldn't take long. Pear Flower was the first to admit she had not been gifted the virtue of patience. There was less of it where presents were concerned.

[550 words]

Pear Flower watched the egg as she relaxed into her position around the nest. She hummed to it gently as the water nearby lapped gently in time. It was mostly tuneless, as she wasn't singing anything in particular, but she realized that there was more love in her voice than she'd anticipated.

[blockquote]Rolled 5d25 : 1, 18, 25, 12, 7, total 63[/blockquote]

prompts

1. A bird flies down and tries to make off with your egg; fend it off before it does too much damage.
2. You stay up watchful all night and start seeing things. Or are those spectrals?
3. The flesh of the egg shifts and moves, and you are certain for a moment that a salamander is about to emerge.
4. That greenery around the edges of your chosen nest is poison ivy of the intensely itchy kind.
5. Confused marine iguanas surround you, mistaking your egg for one of theirs.

Pear had barely been mid-hum when her eyes barely spotted the shadow darting overhead. A bird! She glanced up just as the foul creature dove straight at her nest and her egg. In a blink the usually gentle and pampered doe was standing aggressively over her egg. A hoof met with feathered fiend. The bird flew up and, determined to make her precious gift a meal, swooped downward again. Pear lashed out with her front hooves and pinned the creature to the ground. In a swift movement the bird was dead, and she had a meal to tide her over while she watched over her charge. A proper dinner would do her good.

She settled back down and was happy to quietly spend the dwindling evening idly indulging in her catch, drinking the nearby water, and entertaining herself by telling stories to her egg. The sun set shortly and day turned to night. Several times she found herself starting to doze off, but she couldn't take the risk of another animal attack or a sneak-thief coming by as she slept. Her eyes would start to drift closed and she'd jolt herself awake. Over and over again. She'd lost count of how many times this had happened when she spotted something hovering off in the distance, just within her periphery. Pear skewed her eyes into a squint, to make out the shape so far away, but that only served to make things more blurry. Whatever it was it wasn't coming closer ... she hoped. Her eyes slowly blinked closed, and as her head started to settle on the edge of the nest she shook herself awake. The shape was closer! What was happening to her?? She'd never seen imaginary things in her life. She'd never seen a spectral animal before either, and for a brief moment guilt washed over her. Was this the ghost of the hungry bird she'd turned into a snack for herself? Pear felt a shiver tingle down her spine as the thought came and went. "Well," she told herself, "at least now I'm definitely awake."

She'd happily managed to make it through the rest of the night, still seeing things, but safely and when the sun started to peek through the trees on the horizon she noticed the egg was starting to move. She sniffed at it delicately to encourage it, but noticed no movement when she did- There it was again! Right?? She watched the egg very carefully, she could swear she saw slight wriggling, but nothing was happening. Over half of the day she spent not moving, barely daring to breathe, as she watched for any continued sign of life.

It wasn't until she started to itch that she dared to move at all from her intense vigil. The itching became worse, more of a burning, and as Pear thrashed her head to her side to nip at the hind leg giving her the most trouble she spotted it- Poison ivy. How had she not noticed this when she made the nest? This wasn't like her at all to be so careless. She could only be grateful that she'd just now moved to a position where it could brush against her. She moved herself away from the terrible plant, and started to rub the same mud she'd used for the nest along the spots of her body blooming with rash. It helped little, but at least it was no longer distracting.

She was really starting to question the value of this egg when she heard slight movement behind her. It was not enough warning, however, to save her from the stinging bite to her tail. Whipping her head around she came eye to eye with a marine iguana. A very mad iguana. Staring the one behind her down she wasn't prepared, then, for the one that lashed out and hit her with it's tail. Or the one that lunged at her neck with it's claws. Before she knew it she was spinning and kicking out wildly at a whole group of very confused, hormonal, marine iguana that clearly thought she'd stolen one of their eggs. As far as Pear knew their eggs looked nothing like what she had, but there was just no reasoning with the stupid things. Brains the size of a speck of sand, and the sense to match.

She was finally able to kick and toss them far enough away that they decided one egg wasn't worth it and slunk off to find something else to annoy. Breathing deeply to calm her nerves was Pear's first priority. Then she went back to the nest and sniffled around the egg, turning it over gently, and searching for any damage. She let out a truly stabling breath when she saw that it was safe. Laying back down she rested her chin along the edge of the nest once more.

"You had better be worth it," but there was no malice in her voice.

As if in reply to her last spoken thought, the shell of the egg started to shift more dramatically and peel away from the creature inside. First a nose, then a whole head, and finally claws and legs and tail- Pear Flower let out a soft woop! of celebration and bent down to examine her creature. It was definitely a salamander, and appeared to be a vibrant green. It would fit in quite nicely with the flowers and grasses she liked to surround herself with. She was overcome with her luck.

What a perfectly apt familiar for the Motherfather to have provided.

[blockquote]Rolled 1d10 : 2, total 2[/blockquote]

[imgleft]http://www.matope-swamp.com/images/maxx ... uncert.png[/imgleft] He hadn't anticipated coming across such a strange little egg during his travels, but he had. Something so pale stood out in the dark of the swamp. Blood tilted his head and wondered how it had survived unscathed for this long. If he let it be, it wouldn't remain that way, he supposed. A soft noise from behind, a wet nose against his side. Ash was at his right, and he could hear Snow moving through the nearby underbrush. He had been set on a solitary hunt for vengeance, but it seemed like life kept throwing companions in his path. He couldn't leave the egg be. He had to get it somewhere warm & dry. With a huff, he snapped a large leaf off a nearby plant and set it on the ground. He ever so gently nosed the egg onto the leaf. Gripping the ends of the leaf in his mouth, he slowly dragged the egg to a drier patch of land surrounded by more of the large-leafed plants. He set briefly set it down and used his hooves to push the loose ground up into a raised pile. When he was done, he stomped a hoof into the middle of the pile, leaving a place for the egg to rest comfortably. He carefully picked up the leaf and set it and the egg inside the makeshift nest. He pushed some more soil around it and draped some more large leaves over the top. This seemed okay for now.

[Biome: Warm & dry // WC: 251]

[imgleft]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/ ... stcrew.png[/imgleft] Finally, he laid down behind it. Snow peeked her massive scaled head out from beneath a bush to observe. The egg looked like a tasty snack, but Blood was curled around it like a mother, so she hissed quietly and curled up next to him. The ground was warm, but he was warmer, so the large serpent stuck to the heat and was content to rest. Meanwhile, Ash had positioned herself on the other side of the egg, keen to protect whatever new pack member emerged.

[blockquote]Rolled 5d25 : 18, 14, 12, 13, 20, total 77[/blockquote]

[WC: 86 // Total: 337]

Spoiler

18. You stay up watchful all night and start seeing things. Or are those spectrals?

14. A band of misfits wants to see the egg and are ready to rumble.

12. That greenery around the edges of your chosen nest is poison ivy of the intensely itchy kind.

13. You eat a strange mushroom and lose track of some time.

20. Waking up from a nap, you and your egg are covered in frog eggs. Mama frog glares on protectively.

The hours passed by slowly, but sleep wouldn't come. How could he sleep with an innocent, helpless life to watch over? He had already been traveling endlessly with little sleep. Dots and wisps clouded his eyes and he sleepily blinked them away. Shapes danced on the edge of his vision and he squinted out into the darkness. A large shape floated particularly close and he hunched over the egg with a confused noise, trying to figure out what it was. Familiar glowing green eyes blinked back at him and he sighed. Wanderer had wandered back to them again. The spectral wolf eyed him and the egg curiously before floating to Ash and settling down.

---

Blood closed his eyes for but a moment, but when he opened them again, Snow, Ash, and Wanderer had disappeared from his side. He narrowed his eyes and the sound of heavy steps and obnoxious laughter reached him. He stood over the egg as a group of two acha and a kimeti carelessly crashed into the area.

"What do you have there?" one asked curiously, before identifying it themselves. "A salamander egg! We need one of those, give it here."

"This is mine," Blood said. "Leave now."

A rustle of wind allowed some moonlight to drift down from the trees, casting a dim light on Blood-Soaked and his, well, blood-soaked appearance. The two acha took a nervous step back, whispering to each other. The kimeti scoffed and replied to them loudly.

"It's three against one!"

"No, actually," Blood hummed. "It's three against four,"

Howls rang out from the surrounding foliage, causing the misfits to jump and curse. "It's not worth it!" one acha cried, running back the way they came.

Snow shot out of the trees, all gleaming teeth and white scales in the night. "WHAT IS THAT?" the other acha screamed and followed his friend before Snow could get a piece of him.

The kimeti hesitated to turn tail and run. Wanderer's ghostly form breached the trees behind Blood. Glowing green eyes and frothy, angry mouth directed at the threat. The kimeti immediately bolted.

After the sounds of their rushing steps had faded into nothing, Blood settled back down around the egg. He sent a small smile to his companions that had rejoined them in their previous spots. "Good job,"

---

Further into the night, he had developed a horribly itchy feeling. His sides and face were angry, raised, and pink. Eventually he realized that those were the parts of him that had touched the nest plants. He hurriedly removed the leaves from the nest, tossing them far away and took an impromptu roll through the soft mud to ease his itching.

---

He walked a small bit away, keeping the egg in his peripheral at all times. Looking for new, non-itchy leaves to drape over the small thing, and maybe something to eat. He gathered more leaves and some mushrooms from an odd-looking stump and returned to his spot. His companions didn't eat mushrooms, so he ate them all. Not long after, colors danced and his companions were suddenly so fuzzy. First the poison ivy and now a potentially poisoned mushroom. How did he ever survive on his own? His vision blurred and his stomach flipped and suddenly he was blinking open his eyes and staring up at the mid-day sky. Where had the night gone? Where had the morning gone?

---

He sat up and heard a loud, angry croak. Feeling incredibly disoriented, Blood blinked the sleep and mushroom-induced haze from his eyes. The scene before him left him feeling horribly confused. A large frog sat next to Ash and Snow, who were both covered in eggs. He looked down. The salamander egg was covered in eggs. He looked at himself. Even he was covered in eggs. What....? Blood spent way too long, slowly and carefully brushing the eggs from everyone and placing them all on a muddy log. As mid-day bled into evening, he was surprised and a little bit disappointed that Snow hadn't just eaten the frog.

[ WC: 673 // Total: 1010 ]

1-4: yellow fire
5-7: red fire
8-9: black fire
10: blue fire

[blockquote]Rolled 1d10 : 10, total 10[/blockquote]

After a strange and stressful day, the egg wobbled and cracked. Blood and his friends looked on as a small, glowing blue salamander crawled out.

"Hello there, pretty thing," he whispered. He had never seen a blue fire salamander before. He moved his head closer and the salamander slowly crawled up his face plate, a warm presence on the crown of his head. He stood and stretched, his companions doing the same as they prepared to continue their hunt with a new little friend.

[WC: 84 // Final WC: 1094]

The room was warm and wet. The nest was carefully-set. With Cave Yell and Flawed to help her, Echo was sure they'd do just fine looking after the egg.

[blockquote]Rolled 5d25 : 1, 24, 15, 2, 5, total 47[/blockquote]

1. A bird flies down and tries to make off with your egg; fend it off before it does too much damage.
24. When the light hits just so, you see something moving under the slightly-translucent skin of the egg.
15. Somehow, you set up in a spider nest, and at night they emerge: cobwebs and hatchlings as far as the eye can see.
2. A cute mongoose offers you a gleaming apple while its friend tries to steal your egg.
5. A territory dispute between two lynxes comes close to where you're protecting your egg.

It wasn't very often that a bird made its way into the den that Echo kept. When Cave Yell and Flawed were out gathering food, though, an enterprising crow had swooped its way down into the entrance to their water-protected cave, happy to retriece a fat fish. After that, curiosity must have taken hold. She woke to the thing, having gorged on what was supposed to be her lunch, ready to peck at the egg, and she did the only thing that made sense at the time-- she shouted at it.

The bird took off backwards, cawing in offense and leaving a nasty streak of mess as it left-- a rude thank-you gift for the interruption.

She turned to check the egg, first from one direction, then another, before pausing. Something was moving inside the creamy, translucent egg, backlit by the embers she was feeding-- something was very much alive. She sighed in contentment, settling back down.

~

She woke up again with something crawling on her-- spiders. Some were on her, and more yet crawled out of a recess she hadn't noticed before in her den. Bugs were, as life in the swamp always promised, somewhat of a problem... but not so much of a problem the doe couldn't manage. She whistled for Legend, waiting for the dragon to show up before nosing the greedy little thing towards its new source of snack.

She watched with amusement, taking her time to gently finish off the ones which had started crawling on her before eating them herself-- protein was important to have, after all, and she'd missed out on her fish dinner.

~

She wasn't certain if it was a dream or not. Her mind was muzzy. But she woke, nevertheless, to the chattering of a mongoose, one who was rolling an apple towards her. Was it someone's pet? Where had it gotten the apple? It seemed uninterested in keeping it for itself, but the only place she knew of nearby that had apples was her den, and-- and the thief had an accomplice.

She moved swiftly, kicking the one mongoose and breaking its back in a swift motion, then going after the other. She wasn't swift enough to catch it, but it had surely learned not to poke its head into strange dens... and its friend? She just had to hope she hadn't made a meal of someone else's pet.

~

The sound of wildcats fighting was always unsettling. She fidgeted as she rose from her spot, checking the watery moat that marked the entrance of her den, then carefully walking-- and crawling through the one short space-- to check her brambles. They stood tall and firm against all intruders, promising the same safety her den always did.

She could worry about the lynxes later, and either chase them off or turn them into furs.

The den could always use a little cozying up, after all, and lynx skulls were oh-so-pretty.

Echo smiled up at her brother and mate as the egg finally hatched, revealing a tiny blue muzzle! A water salamander-- quite the surprise. One would have thought that it might have hatched as a fertile salamander, given that Verdant was the only one she knew that lived local to the little den.

(Total WC: 579!)