Aimatos

Somehow, their eggs never hatched. River and Havoc tried again and again over the years. Several nests, neatly laid out in this spot of the forest that they called home. 16 eggs that never hatched, but never rotted. Neither dead nor alive. When a fire scorched the forest, the pair had to abandon their sleeping children, now buried under ash and dirt. They were grieved, and then forgotten.

Decades later, the forest that never regrew became a place of worship for some of the beasts that lived nearby. The ground here was strange. Blood that was spilled seemed to seep into the ground and vanish, like the earth itself was drinking it. They were curious enough to quench its thirst.

Beneath the surface of these ritual grounds, the cracking sound of hatching eggs was heard, almost a century too late.