(Inspired by the Blog Azeroth shared topic, “RP a scene with your Favorite Mount.”))
Orronil watched what the Oracles had given her. It was an egg. Not much of an egg in all honesty. It was soft green of colour, dotted with some yellow spots. They couldn’t tell what would hatch from it, but then again she already had trouble understanding them at all. Something of a surprise they had said. She wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that. Ever since she had set foot in the cold shores of Northrend she had run into one nasty surprise after another. If it wasn’t wolvar that were throwing spears at her it was some kind of undead mammoth that tried to trample on her. Luckily, Dalaran seemed peaceful. Even if it seemed to get more crowded these days. She missed Moonglade and the trees and peace it harboured. She thought she could find that again in Sholazar, but it seemed there was too much war between the locals for that.
She looked around and noticed she was all alone in the park now. She could hear the noise from horde and alliance a couple streets away from her. She sighed. Perhaps it was time to go back and leave this land with it’s cold peaks. Suddenly the egg stirred in her hands. She almost dropped it when it happened. “What the…” , but before she could say anything a little crack had formed. Curiosity took control of her, even if she was wary. She had heard of beautiful birds hatching from these eggs, but there were also stories of snakes emerging from them. Sure, she was a druid, loved animals, but she wasn’t very fond of snakes… or spiders for that matter.
It wasn’t a bird, she couldn’t see any feathers. “You’d better not be a snake, little one. Or I might have to sell you to that gnome animal handler down the road. No offence, but I don’t feel much for your kind.” Then all of a sudden a little paw burst through the shell. “Ow…” was all she could manage to say. So it wasn’t a snake. It was a gorgeous colour. Emerald, like the dream she had once walked. She helped the tiny animal break free from it’s green confinement and gasped when she held the tiny, green dragon in her hands.
It was a proto drake. She had seen a few of them. It burped and that made her giggle. “Nice drake you got there ma’am.”, a high voice spoke. Orronil jumped, almost dropping the tiny whelp. “What the.. ow yes, erh thank you.” She watched the gnome woman who had crept up on her. “That will be a fine riding specimen.”
“A … riding… what? I’m supposed to ride it?” she looked in horror at the animal. “I’m a druid, I don’t need a flying mount…and it’s so tiny..”
“Not now, silly elf. Dragons grow, like other animals. In fact they grow even quicker.”
Orronil scowled at the gnome. Of course she knew that animals grew. She just hadn’t even thought of riding a dragon.
“You will have to feed it a lot, but I’ve heard they make great companions. Well you have a good day now.” The druid watched the gnome run off, and then her gaze went back to the whimpering hatchling. “I can not promise to ride you ever; I might fly with you though. I will not deny you that pleasure. I do promise to keep you as happy as I can and to take good care of you, my new friend.”
The hatchling hiccupped. The elf grinned, ”I shall call you; Arisaema.”