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Description

Story Time :3

----
The sky was cloudy, the atmosphere was damp and unpleasant. A small cart was being pulled by a rather large quad, its wheels rolling around on the rocky pathway. They were on their way to Wynsiph. Inside the cart were a few large bags, presumably full of personal belongings, and three unusually coloured eggs. Each egg had a small cloth wrapped around them, with a name crudely scribbled on. But... it appeared to be in another language? Or they were just symbols. The quad silently cursed in a foreign language as the sky began to crackle in anger, small water droplets falling like tears. It was going to storm.

The quad quickened their pace, not wanting to get caught up in the rain. They looked back at their cart and at the eggs, worry clearly seen in their eyes. They started to become quicker as the droplets slowly turned into rain. They didn't notice as the cart got hit by a rock, and the items in the cart shifted.

BANG

Thunder roared in the dark grey sky, causing the quad to run. The reddish egg was pushed closer to the edge of the backless cart, while the blue and purple ones moved to a more safer position. The ride was bumpy, the egg moving around, back and forward, safety and danger...

BANG

The quad squeaked as rain poured down from above, going full speed ahead. The red egg finally rolled close enough...

To fall.

The egg hit the ground with a CRACK, before bouncing and rolling down a nearby hill, hitting rocks and twigs, the protective shell trying its best to keep the wyngling inside safe. It gained scratches and cracks, the rain not stopping and only got worse.

Finally, it slowed down and laid half inside a rather soft looking bush. The egg was totally ruined, covered in cracks and mud. You wouldn't even recognize it as an egg if you saw it. The small bit of fabric that was tied around it was torn and stained, the letters only barely readable... The storm continued and the egg rested there without being noticed for a long, long time.

Days and nights went by as the egg was not disturbed. Presumably, it had died. It was quite a hazardous fall and the egg looked like if it was touched it would act like rustle dust and turn into powder.

But, the egg began to glow a dim red. Was it hatching? The forest leaves rustled in the breeze, birds tweeted their songs. The egg let out a small hum as it glowed, getting brighter and brighter.

There was no noise as the egg hatched, there was nothing left to crack. The small red wyngling's head peaked out, eyes closed. It's nose was round, it let out little meeps and squeaks, then curiously sniffed the air. Most of their body was still inside the almost disintegrated shell, hiding it from the suns harsh rays. The child finally crawled out, its features seen clearly. It's body was red, with a orangish colour giving them a 'mask' pattern, which extended down to their neck and chest. A lighter yellowish colour covered their arms, a white accent was on their claws and tail. An off white red made their baby spot. It had spikes sprouting from their cheeks, neck, and behind. They turned their head and reached out for their shell, before taking the small fabric around it. They seemed to flinch when they touched it, probably because they didn't know it was there... nervously, they took it and investigated. They smelled it, touched it... and even put it in their mouth. They spat it out, of course.

But after a bit of tinkering, it was now gently wrapped around their left wrist. At first the Wyngling was scared of what it had just done, shaking their arm and squeaking in panic. But once it realized it did not harm them, they rested their head on the fabric. It was dirty, but soft and comforting, they couldn't see it was covered it mud anyway.

The child lifted their head, trying to look around, but they didn't know how to open their eyes. They pressed the area where their eyes should be, trying to figure out how to open them. Grunting and squeaking, the forest wildlife watched from the shadows, unsure of how to greet this newcomer. Finally giving up, they laid flat on the floor in defeat. They suddenly tried to clamber to their feet and stand. They fell, over and over again. They grunted in slight annoyance, they had a feeling like they should already know what to do, but they didn't. Over and over, they stood and fell. Finally, they got to their shaky feet. Their body was covered in a small layer of dirt, they had bruises on some parts of their body. They had to stop and think for a moment, what where they doing this for again? They didn't know, but had the urge to continue. They lifted up a paw and put it one step in front of them, they let out a squeak of nervousness, scared to fall. They stood still, before moving a back claw forward, the opposite one to their paw. They couldn't see where they were going, relying on their other senses. They continued to move forward. Front leg, back leg, front leg, back leg. They got the hang of it eventually, but still fell over and was slightly shaky.

They managed to walk head first into a tree, but something was different about it. They squeaked, scared of this new object, and they cowered. Then, found out it didn't hurt them. They curiously touched it, smelled it, and well, bit it. It wasn't very tasty. They then noticed that the trunk had a hole in it, just big enough for them to curl up inside. They couldn't see it though. A loud roar echoed through the forest, animals running away from something. The red wyngling became frightened, instincts kicking in. Flight. They scrambled into the trunk, curled up into a ball as small as they could go. The hole was slightly hidden by bushes, it should be safe. The creatures loud foot steps make the ground shake, it stopped dead in front of the tree. They let out a little terrified squeak, praying to not be caught. It stood there for a long, long time. Finally, it moved on, not noticing the small wyngling. They stayed tense, curled up in a place they hoped was safe. The creatures footsteps and roar got quieter and quieter. The red wyngling was crying. Where was its mother? Why were they alone? Why is everything so god damn terrifying? Why couldn't they see? Slowly, but surely, the child cried themselves into a light slumber...
----
(1,137 words 6,234 characters)

>;D

Champagne:
+ Cheek Spikes (x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x )
+ Neck Spikes (x ,x ,x )
+ Butt Spikes (x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x )
+ Accessory (Here)

Champagne belongs to me!
Blue egg [Mentioned] belongs to MetaKnights1fan
Purple egg [Mentioned] belongs to Jade-Slowpoke

Fullbody x1 (2)
BG (1)
Story (1)

4/644

Description

Story Time :3

----
The sky was cloudy, the atmosphere was damp and unpleasant. A small cart was being pulled by a rather large quad, its wheels rolling around on the rocky pathway. They were on their way to Wynsiph. Inside the cart were a few large bags, presumably full of personal belongings, and three unusually coloured eggs. Each egg had a small cloth wrapped around them, with a name crudely scribbled on. But... it appeared to be in another language? Or they were just symbols. The quad silently cursed in a foreign language as the sky began to crackle in anger, small water droplets falling like tears. It was going to storm.

The quad quickened their pace, not wanting to get caught up in the rain. They looked back at their cart and at the eggs, worry clearly seen in their eyes. They started to become quicker as the droplets slowly turned into rain. They didn't notice as the cart got hit by a rock, and the items in the cart shifted.

BANG

Thunder roared in the dark grey sky, causing the quad to run. The reddish egg was pushed closer to the edge of the backless cart, while the blue and purple ones moved to a more safer position. The ride was bumpy, the egg moving around, back and forward, safety and danger...

BANG

The quad squeaked as rain poured down from above, going full speed ahead. The red egg finally rolled close enough...

To fall.

The egg hit the ground with a CRACK, before bouncing and rolling down a nearby hill, hitting rocks and twigs, the protective shell trying its best to keep the wyngling inside safe. It gained scratches and cracks, the rain not stopping and only got worse.

Finally, it slowed down and laid half inside a rather soft looking bush. The egg was totally ruined, covered in cracks and mud. You wouldn't even recognize it as an egg if you saw it. The small bit of fabric that was tied around it was torn and stained, the letters only barely readable... The storm continued and the egg rested there without being noticed for a long, long time.

Days and nights went by as the egg was not disturbed. Presumably, it had died. It was quite a hazardous fall and the egg looked like if it was touched it would act like rustle dust and turn into powder.

But, the egg began to glow a dim red. Was it hatching? The forest leaves rustled in the breeze, birds tweeted their songs. The egg let out a small hum as it glowed, getting brighter and brighter.

There was no noise as the egg hatched, there was nothing left to crack. The small red wyngling's head peaked out, eyes closed. It's nose was round, it let out little meeps and squeaks, then curiously sniffed the air. Most of their body was still inside the almost disintegrated shell, hiding it from the suns harsh rays. The child finally crawled out, its features seen clearly. It's body was red, with a orangish colour giving them a 'mask' pattern, which extended down to their neck and chest. A lighter yellowish colour covered their arms, a white accent was on their claws and tail. An off white red made their baby spot. It had spikes sprouting from their cheeks, neck, and behind. They turned their head and reached out for their shell, before taking the small fabric around it. They seemed to flinch when they touched it, probably because they didn't know it was there... nervously, they took it and investigated. They smelled it, touched it... and even put it in their mouth. They spat it out, of course.

But after a bit of tinkering, it was now gently wrapped around their left wrist. At first the Wyngling was scared of what it had just done, shaking their arm and squeaking in panic. But once it realized it did not harm them, they rested their head on the fabric. It was dirty, but soft and comforting, they couldn't see it was covered it mud anyway.

The child lifted their head, trying to look around, but they didn't know how to open their eyes. They pressed the area where their eyes should be, trying to figure out how to open them. Grunting and squeaking, the forest wildlife watched from the shadows, unsure of how to greet this newcomer. Finally giving up, they laid flat on the floor in defeat. They suddenly tried to clamber to their feet and stand. They fell, over and over again. They grunted in slight annoyance, they had a feeling like they should already know what to do, but they didn't. Over and over, they stood and fell. Finally, they got to their shaky feet. Their body was covered in a small layer of dirt, they had bruises on some parts of their body. They had to stop and think for a moment, what where they doing this for again? They didn't know, but had the urge to continue. They lifted up a paw and put it one step in front of them, they let out a squeak of nervousness, scared to fall. They stood still, before moving a back claw forward, the opposite one to their paw. They couldn't see where they were going, relying on their other senses. They continued to move forward. Front leg, back leg, front leg, back leg. They got the hang of it eventually, but still fell over and was slightly shaky.

They managed to walk head first into a tree, but something was different about it. They squeaked, scared of this new object, and they cowered. Then, found out it didn't hurt them. They curiously touched it, smelled it, and well, bit it. It wasn't very tasty. They then noticed that the trunk had a hole in it, just big enough for them to curl up inside. They couldn't see it though. A loud roar echoed through the forest, animals running away from something. The red wyngling became frightened, instincts kicking in. Flight. They scrambled into the trunk, curled up into a ball as small as they could go. The hole was slightly hidden by bushes, it should be safe. The creatures loud foot steps make the ground shake, it stopped dead in front of the tree. They let out a little terrified squeak, praying to not be caught. It stood there for a long, long time. Finally, it moved on, not noticing the small wyngling. They stayed tense, curled up in a place they hoped was safe. The creatures footsteps and roar got quieter and quieter. The red wyngling was crying. Where was its mother? Why were they alone? Why is everything so god damn terrifying? Why couldn't they see? Slowly, but surely, the child cried themselves into a light slumber...
----
(1,137 words 6,234 characters)

>;D

Champagne:
+ Cheek Spikes (x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x )
+ Neck Spikes (x ,x ,x )
+ Butt Spikes (x ,x ,x ,x ,x ,x )
+ Accessory (Here)

Champagne belongs to me!
Blue egg [Mentioned] belongs to MetaKnights1fan
Purple egg [Mentioned] belongs to Jade-Slowpoke

Fullbody x1 (2)
BG (1)
Story (1)

4/644