Firo

---

In the middle of your birthday celebration, a dragon comes spiraling down on a warm summer wind to meet you. "Hello," she greets airily, "I heard it was your birthday today. My clan sent me with gifts and well wishes. May the Gladekeeper bless this day and the year to come." The breeze twists around her, knocking over a few cups from the picnic. You'd be annoyed, but she also brought kites and balloons, bringing all the hatchlings scurrying to her side. They cheer as they race their paper toys around the skies with her. You're thankful for the distraction–now you can sneak the last of the cake while the hatchlings are too diverted to steal it. Saria winks at you. Maybe you'll join in on the fun (once every crumb has been devoured of course).

A hatchling, wings still damp, stumbles up to the sentient alloy and gives it a good solid prod. The creature jiggles with the force, but doesn't budge. The hatchling giggles and looks up at the spiral before him. "Mine," he says without a hint of questioning in his tone.

"Manners!" His mother shouts, trying to usher a few more hatchlings to the kites.

Immediatly the hatchling stops smiling as he sounds out words. "F...fa" He shook his head. "Ta.. tank.. tank you!" He smiles and gives the blob another poke.