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06-24-2012, 09:30 PM
Few fires still burned in the Sun God's tempestuous wake, but they burned brightly. Though the flames were destructive, they revealed much of what was lost in the tall grasses. Near the edge of the heart itself, in the middle of a small fire and in a bed of ash laid a large egg. The surface seemed to be alive. Veins of liquid fire pulsed steadily, just beneath the creamy surface. It was alone and abandoned.
It seemed to thrive off of the flames and the heat, and as the fire died, the shell trembled, shivering. The egg needed help. It needed fire, and it needed it quickly.
