She nosed the flap of the tent aside assertively, but her steps forward were more measured and cautious. Her bond finished up talking to Gwillanth and they joined her, taking a seat in the corner to watch the clutch. Their mind glittered with something like reverence. Obikel was a herder. They had barely two marks to rub together but what they did have was Green Bisk, and a love for the paths they travelled. The night was cold but they were excited.
Bisk picked her way between the eggs, resting a heavy head on some of them, inspecting them all. Her mind whirled with alien and yet familiar constellations, something about her... different than the dragons the clutch had the most experience with. Uncluttered, perhaps, with the scaffolding that tied all dragons to their riders. A barer part of Bisk reached out to touch the minds within the eggs than even Gwillanth could offer, an electric shock from skin to skin rather than the brush of a gloved hand.
She stopped by each egg to say something to them, as often with words as with not. When she was done greeting the eggs, she tucked her head down and called plaintively, musically, for the eggs to listen. She was an experienced clutchmother, she knew the tongue of the egg and how to make them listen, and how to hear them.
Humble, be. The words were more than words, they were the gelled concept of humility as Bisk understood it, like she was whispering her native tongue under the foreign words. Like the mountain laying down before the raging wind.
Dirt, respect it. The dirt was life. The land was a living thing. To forsake it for the sky was a curious flaw of the dragons and the humans, she knew.
Night, know it. For the stars came out at night. Obikel had explained the shell of the sky was no shell but a window past the reach of any mind, every pinprick even the ones they couldn’t see a sun with worlds with dirt and life.
Lies, never empty. Another curious flaw for dragons and humans. Warping reality to suit their lies, taking pieces out, being deceitful. Pulled the stone from under claw, that deceit. Lies should give new sand to wallow in, not take it away.
Important, she pressed to them. Important. Heart, open. Always care for the foundling lamb of another’s flock. Always brood the lost eggs, even if they were dusty and cold on the tongue to carry back. Do not listen to the baser instinct to eat the lamb and crush the shells. Kindness nearly always paid better, Bisk knew this from experience. Learn kindness. Learn to love so that it is easy to recognize when cruelty and violence is deserved. Those did not need practice. Love needed practice.
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Did the pair interrupt your sleep, or were you awake? What did Bisk say to you in greeting? Did you respond, did you converse? Does Bisk’s strange mind attract you or repulse you? What of Obikel’s quiet observance? Did any of Bisk’s commands strike you particularly deeply, or ring especially hollow? Do you agree with her final piece of advice? Why or why not?