She has no idea how the egg ends up in front of her. For once though, she happens to be in the right place at the right time. Or maybe the Gods did see her. Maybe this was their gift for everything they’d taken away. Though she doubts it. She suspects it was sheer luck combined with a very full and distracted Yeti. For a moment, she stares dumbfounded at the egg, not entirely sure what she was supposed to do with it. Though after a moment, it dawns on her if she does nothing, someone else might try to snag it from her.

With that thought, she quickly begins to move the egg and it’s nest away from the crowd. She takes it as far as she can, finding a nice grassy field where she immediately begins to rip grass from the ground and cover the egg more. It was damn cold up here, and she’d be lucky if the thing inside wasn’t already dead. She keeps piling the grasses until the egg is nestled in a rather overlarge nest, but it seems like it might be warm enough.

And then she waits, not sure how long she’s going to have to wait here. Worst case, she can drag the egg in increments to somewhere warmer in general. Or find some carnivore to feed on the possibility the egg doesn’t hatch. That would actually be her luck. Or, more likely, the Gods form of a cruel joke. Give her something just to snatch it away again.

Her thoughts grow bitter as time passes, but eventually, there’s a cracking sound from the egg. She looks, moving some grass around to see a little crack in the egg. She stares intently, not even sure what was going to come out of that egg, but finding that she didn’t care. Whatever it was would be hers, and no one could take it from her. Well, Death could, but then Death could claim her too. She waits, eyes glued to the crack in the egg as it grows until finally, finally, a little tiny rainbow colored toad is visible.

“A toad. I would get a toad,” she says to the creature. Almost immediately, something like anger rolls through her, but it’s not her anger. The feeling is alien, and she almost recoils, almost looks around to see who or what is causing it until she realizes it’s the toad. “Oh. Are you not a toad?” At this, agreement and pleasure rolls through her, and she almost laughs. “Then what are you?” But of course, the little frog has no words yet to answer.


les words "chat chat"

Syrena

let the water take me