His son was small, Garble reflected. Tiny. All the baby dragons were of course and a cursory examination revealed that his son was no smaller than any of the other whelps working their way out of the now breaking eggshells. The yellow flying pony-Pegasus?-was cooing over them and had actually picked up three of them before several concerned new parents had clambered over. Butterfly-or whatever her name was-had blushed and set them down. Dragons did not coo, but they were sniffing their young, nuzzling them.
Garble watched as the whelp-his whelp, his son- threw off the last bits of the eggshell and burst into the world. Garble felt a smile tug at his lips. Yes, that was his son. Strong like the rocks that had birthed his race, would one day be as strong as his father even his grandfather. The little one's scales were as red as Garble's own and his spines were the yellow of his mother's. A yellow dragoness moved over to Garble side, nestled up close. Garble stared at the new life. "We made that, Magma." His voice shook with badly disguised awe.
She giggled. "Yes we did. I didn't know you were a poet."
Garble looked away. I'm not. I just...uh...I mean I had to save the eggs so I thought if I made them laugh...cause the laugh fire's really hot and...and...you buying any of this?"
She kissed him, cutting off his stream of babbling. "Not one word. You'll be reading to me later."
The little one scampered over, drawn to their scent. Garble felt his claw tremble even as he reached towards this strange new creature that bounced towards them. His mate showed no such hesitation, drawing him forward with her claw. He looked up at his mother with the wide eyes of a hatchling and she ran her tongue across his face, cleaning away the sticky residue that had protected him until only a few minutes ago.
Garble spread out his wing over his mate and child. Ancient psychic grooves deep inside the instinctive part of his brain began to turn. Protect, it whispered to him. For once in his life, smallness did not disgust him. Instead, it worried him. He drew them closer into the shelter of his wing. The world suddenly looked very dangerous. The other dragons could crush this precious gem without even intending to. A hatchling without wings could wander off a cliff, plummeting down...there were one-thousand unseen dangers.
A voice from his own hatchlinghood-had a century passed so quickly?-returned to him. His father's admonishment to play where he could see him, to stay near the cave, to not wander off unattended into the wide world. He had tested, but never fully disobeyed, that gravelly and powerful voice of his mighty father.
Garble understood now. He longed for the shadows of his safe, familiar cave. They had been storing jewels for a while now, crushed into a grainy powder hatchlings could eat.Bored with his mother's grooming, the little one hopped over to his daddy, booping his snout against Garble's much larger one.
"Hi there, Little Runt." He puffed out his chest. "I'm your daddy." The word applied to himself was...strange. Disorienting. Particularly since his voice contained none of the power his father's had (or did it to this little one?) "So, you'd better listen to me."
The hatchling stared up at him, opened his mouth and made what would in a few decades or so be a mighty roar but now only sounded like a little squeak. Magma laughed. "He's only a little ol' guy."
Garble snorted. "Little? No, he's big and ferocious like his papa." He pressed his cheek against his son's entire body and the hatchling rested against his cheek. "He's so small."
Magma rested on her belly, Garble's wing still over them. Their son rested in the space atop where there claws met, popped his tail into his mouth. "I thought he was big and ferocious?"
Garble watched over him. He was being lulled to rest by their presence. He felt safe, oblivious to the very idea that danger even existed. "He is. Or-or he will be. But right now he's so small."
"That's why he has us." She laid her head down so her snout was breathing warm air over him. Baby dragons got cold quickly, they needed that. Garble rested his head by hers. His breathing wasn't quite as easy, coming out in short puffs.
"You alright?"
Garble contained his breathing. "Yeah I'm fine."
She placed her snout into his neck. "You're not."
"Am too."
The hatchling mewled, annoyed or frightened by the raised voices. Garble and Magma hastily started licking him until he calmed again and closed his eyes. Garble softly groaned. "See that? I'm already screwing up."
She lifted her wing over his. "No one here has any idea of what they're doing. Nor did our parents and we turned out fine."
"...Did we?"
She bit her lips to keep from laughing. "I guess we did, but your parents must have doubts considering they sent your sister to the Pony school."
Garble quietly growled then nuzzled the sleeping infant. "I told them Smolder didn't need to go to that school."
"She seems to be liking it."
Garble sighed. "As long as she's happy." He stroked the sleeping dragonlet who mewled again and squirmed before settling into a comfortable position. "But my son's going to be a big tough, dragon. Of course, so is Smolder. But this guy here doesn't need any Pony school."
Magma pursed her lips. "We'll discuss that later."
Garble shifted on the stone. "I have to teach him so much."
She intertwined her tail around his. "You're not alone ya know."
"Can I see him?"
Both turned around and smiled at the young dragoness who stood behind them. Garble nodded. "Of course, Sis."
Smolder approached, sat across from them, reached out to pat her sleeping nephew's head. The infant rolled over towards the new source of warmth. "Hi there, little guy. I'm your Aunt Smolder. What's his name?"
They shared a glance.
Garble chuckled. "We're not sure yet."
The dragonlet suddenly awoke, a pitiful whine breaking from his lips. Smolder stood up. "Uh-oh, somedragon's hungry."
Magma lifted up. "We'll have to take him back to the cave to feed him. You can come along, Smolder."
Smolder spread her wings as Garble and Magma did the same. Instinct guided the new member of the clan up his mother's tail to find a perch upon her back. Smolder flew alongside them, Garble spreading his wings across both as they flew towards home.
