Phoebe dipped her head with gratitude and respect, then turned to fix the nest up. She didn't have time to wallow in misery feeling sorry for herself. The next egg would come soon, if not today, it would arrive early tomorrow. Grunting, she lumbered towards the opening of the cave. Peering down the side of the barren mountainside, she saw just a few tough, scraggly shrubs clinging desperately to the ledges, a single weary flower delicately perched on the edge of a bare branch, hinting at life growing hidden among the volcanic wasteland. The rocks took on strange, organic shapes, evidence of previous volcanic activity. The volcano itself nearly plunged into the sea, an island unto itself, a thin band of coconut and palm trees lined one shore, where a black sandy beach lay in contrast to the tropical ocean. Besides a few nesting birds, there was nothing else to see, but there was a hot spring boiling from the side of the volcano, creating a constant rise of steam as it pooled at the foot of the mountain before winding the short distance to the sea. This is just what she needed. There was no mud here, because of the lack of organic matter, but the black sand would work. Phoebe wound her way down to the beach. She scooped up the wet sand, taking as much as she could gather. She then clamored back up into the boiling hot cave, quickly slapping the sand in a mound not far from the glowing cauldron of lava. The sand dried out very quickly, and became a loose mass. Phoebe used her flame breath to melt the black sand, using her claws to shape the resultant glass into a basin, crudely shaped, but thick walled.
She sat back on her haunches, examining her work. It would do for now.
She felt very hungry, now that the most important thing was completed.
~~~
Asclepius threw himself into his work, ignoring the looks he was receiving from many of the others around him. He wasn't sure of how to feel about the situation. He simply had avoided mating calls most of the time. He was too busy. He didn't want the responsibility of raising young. He didn't feel like bringing wyrmlings into the world was a driving factor in his life. But he knew that the others wouldn't see it that way. Most other dragon societies took life mates. They might misunderstand. He sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt. Why should I feel guilty? He thought. I didn't do anything actually wrong.
for a bit of closure at least. )
