Glosso

A young coatl had foolishly taken her eggs between regions; and she was dying. No one alive knows the circumstances of how the situation came to be, but it was. She was dying, but still struggling, as the first thunderclap sounded, and the rains fell. She was still struggling as the nearby brush, not having seen water in a very long time, managed to catch fire.

As the smoke, the rain, the fire, and the mud all seemed to swirl around her, enveloping her into darkness, she screamed She screamed as loud and as long as she could, hoping someone, ANYONE would hear her... and being afraid to her core that no one would.

As her voice got weaker and weaker, her fear that no one would hear her voice grew... and as her vision grew darker then the stormclouds, her fear carried a prayer, a whisper quiet voice; that her single egg, her only child would be found, and live, and be raised.

The fire and the thunder felt her fear, and heard her plea... and took the egg for themselves, merging their forces into it, and adding the last tearful, fear-driven thoughts of it's mother; the fear of both being and not being heard.