Cael stared at the egg and sighed, heavily.
The egg sat, innocuous, and did nothing. Thick shell, ivory splotched with green and mottled, hard to the touch, faintly warm- about the size of her helmet, say, entirely unassuming.
She’d been to see the druids she knew (who were either not interested, busy, or unapproachable for reasons that varied from “downright mean who made fun of her stutter” to “can’t seem to locate and isn’t responding to the guildstone”) had no interest in taking it or, worse, wanted her to put it back where it would most definitely be crushed, corrupted, or worse. Zen was right out. Kanta was… being Kanta- which meant blunt to the point of being kind of mean. The menagerie keepers were more sympathetic but far too busy and added that it may not hatch into anything at all.
Nobody seemed willing to HELP.
But leaving it alone was… not an option and, well, leaving it under HER care was probably also a bad idea.
She buried her head in her hands and groaned. Light take it… She didn’t have time or anything else to care for an egg! Or worse, a baby! She could barely take care of herself, and she knew it. She made poor choices, got nearly killed on a weekly basis, risked life and limb on a DAILY basis, had no sense of money management or how to be a productive adult in society; military life provided structure she knew she desperately needed.
But I can’t just leave it to die no matter what they say. There’s been so much death and darkness and horror and pain.
She gently reached to touch the surface of the egg.
Maybe… Maybe just this once, something good can be born instead?