No voice you have heard has been the same.
Gwillanth shimmers like wet steel in the sun. Strong, warm, yet fresh, not cloying. Pertemarth’s touch is a stroke of watercolor that seeps into your canvas -- quick, companionate, vibrant but only in his skilled hand. Yuakajth is the beat of drums, Valyth the swell of the sandtide, Igith a fan of feathers and Issrodeth a full, dark, bitter almond flavor.
A cacophony of feelings and sounds enraptures you as the dragons around you speak. Your companions... are less vibrant. There is a timbre they lack, a music or perhaps a technic in an attachment to something... else. You are still finding your voice. You are still seeking your signature of the mind. Perhaps it cannot yet be finished, but you must start now.
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What does your mental speech feel like? Consider these questions, and when you are finished, create a new profile field on your egg's profile to fit the description of your egg's mindscape / mindvoice.