Leopard's Last Laugh - 002

Cyril stood just beyond the still-broken gates of the manor, staring off into space. He'd just been given the deed to the place by Cal and had immediately gone home to gather his stuff. Ria hadn't been home yet from one of her merc jobs and so he'd left a note for her, so she wouldn't come home to find his stuff gone and panic. He was just starting to believe Ria didn't want him to leave and still didn't really know how to react to the knowledge.

Yirin yawned and settled in the grass, looking around. She clearly remembered the place - it was where she'd found Cyril, after all - but it was deserted, no scent of the dark werewolf remained. The frostdrak shifted and poked her head into a dead bush, sniffing, then taking a large munch. Apparently, it wasn't as dead as it looked to Cyril.

His second drak, Vahanis, was running around the grounds, poking her head into everything she could, as usual. He could hear her vocal churrs and squawks as she chased a squirrel towards a tree, or as she found her way into the broken stables.

Cyril smiled softly as he felt a little body press against his leg and looked down. Grendel meeped up at him and he leaned down to pick her up, cradling her in his arms. While he was home, he'd found a missive telling him the egg had been laid and to pick it up. Returu had been kind enough to let him have the resulting egg from himself and Ryurii, but Cyril still didn't know how that was going to work. He looked down at his backpack with its specially reinforced sides and bottom. Nestled in the top was the large icedrak egg, its polished coral sides were crystallized with a sparkling coat. His draks were quickly becoming the family he'd lost so long ago. Along with Ria, he was learning to smile once again. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain the little icedrak to Ria when it hatched, however.

"Uh, yeah, Ria? I seem to have acquired a child?" Cyril snorted as he thought about how she'd react "It just...happens to be an icedrak." No doubt, she'd just facepalm. Cyril chuckled and heaved a sigh, then picked up the pack carefully and moved towards the broken doors of the manor.

After a quick walk-through - thankfully the place was deserted but for the rodents that called it home after so long - Cyril found himself in the large ballroom where him and Ria had been held. The egg in his pack wobbled slightly and he quickly set Grendel down, moving the pack to set on the ground as well and kneeling next to it. He pulled the ice-cold egg out of the pack and held it, his fingers already frozen as frost tried to crawl up them. Cyril brushed the egg off and it shook in response to his touch. "Come there, little one," he whispered. Grendel leaned over and sniffed at the egg, then meeped up at him questioningly. Cyril gave a chuckle. "It will be your little sibling, Grendel. You'll have another playmate, soon." The novadrak seemed satisfied and settled next to him to wait, watching the egg with the intensity of demanding it to hatch right now.

The egg wobbled violently and Cyril nearly gasped, grabbing it with both hands to keep it from hitting the stone floor. He settled it in his lap, ignoring the freezing sides. A large crack split it in half like lightning and Cyril gasped again as the eggshell literally exploded in his lap. Grendel squawked in surprise and shook her head at the fragments that had hit her, then poked at the remains in Cyril's now soaking wet lap. Cyril groaned. "That...was not expected," he shivered as his lap, among other things, was drenched in ice-cold liquids. "The other three didn't hatch on me."

The tiny wyrm wriggled in the sopping liquid of its afterbirth, blindly nomming on anything it could reach. Cyril's soft smile grew as he reached in and touched the icedrak. Drak or no, it was his child, his blood - somehow. He refused to deny that simply because it hadn't been under his control, or because the drakkari were different. The elf wondered how he could find out what gender it was as the little ice wyrm curled around his hands, jaw opening in a silent squeak. He picked it up and cuddled it against his chest, shivering, but not caring in the slightest.