Lyra

Eisheth has her flying and Valeth has his stars. Hmmph. So what? Lyra's happy with her book of scary stories and her plushies. She likes to snuggle up with them and read in a spooky, stuttering voice while Momma and Daddy croon happily to her and her siblings. She's happy and warm and cozy like this.

Lyra doesn't ever want to grow up.
But alas, everyone grows up eventually, and Lyra couldn't get her paws on a scroll of eternal youth. It'd be selfish of her to do that, anyway, have her family and friends take care of her forever while she lived her life carefree. Lyra does her best, helping bring materials for Bahram to take care of eggs and hatchlings, sometimes helping him out with his self-imposed duties too. She has to admit, she loves hatchlings. They're adorable, and remind her so much of more carefree days.

At least she can still snuggle her dolls at night in her nest.
The hatchlings are so cute they make her want to cry. Especially the clan's coatl hatchlings! The move to Wispwillow Grove, she feels, was a good choice, if an arduous one. Plenty of space for the young ones to roam around and play, plenty of space for the clan to grow.

Lyra still looks back on her hatchlinghood days with fond remembrance, but she's begun to move on. This was always meant to happen. There's no use staying in the past.