The hatchling’s trill rings out, bright and thin. Deep in the breach, a heavy thump answers, then another, slow as a waking heart.
The Elder Knight
That is no echo. Something else stirs back there.
The Scarred Knight
Hold, both of you. Keep the hatchling by the alcove.
The Fighter-Butcher
I hear it too. Stone and breath, maybe more eggs, maybe worse.
The pale light around the niche swells over the fractured shell. The newborn presses close to the first dragon, while the knights shift into a ring of guard-stance between the nest and the dark tunnel beyond.
the first dragon
The sound comes from deeper in the tunnel.
The thumping comes nearer, measured and deliberate, and dust trembles from the ceiling. Whatever waits in the breach now knows the clutch is awake.
Investigate the thumping in the tunnel