Challenge #04727-L343: Earned Adoption

in #fiction5 days ago

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The human family wept, for illness robbed them of being able to have children. The kobold warren nearby decided to trust them and brought a nest of eggs. They loved the young kobolds as deeply as they would their own flesh and blood. And the sorrow was turned to joy. -- Anon Guest

The good news, such as it was, was that Hirren and Aldin had survived the mumps. The bad news was that it had stolen the young couple's ability to have children of their own. Hirren had lost half her hearing on one side. A smaller price to pay, for sure, but the other hit them the hardest.

There were other ways to get children. Scouring the woods for the abandoned, going to a fosterhaus to pick up someone and gift them a new future. Alas, the nearest fosterhaus was on the other side of a dangerous mountain pass. Just going there would risk their lives. Coming back would do the same.

So they spent their spare hours in the forests, looking for unwanted babes. Yet they only found Kobolds.

They were friendly to them, and helped the little Dragonkindred however and whenever they could. And out of gratitude, the Kobolds added the couple's quest to their cause. They went all over the forest, finding all sorts of things, but nothing like a living babe or abandoned brat.

Then came the storm, the shaking earth from a distant volcano and the torrent of weather had caused a lot of damage. Hirren and Aldin had left their home while the rain was still threatening to flood their valley, heading straight to the only entrance of the warren they knew. Where a landslide had buried it.

Shovels, hands, and sharp sticks joined desperate claws, regardless of the rotten weather. None stopped until the whole nest could scramble free. Hirren carried some eggs in her skirt. Aldin turned his shirt into a basket for the rest, leading the survivors to their home to at least get warm and dry.

One hatched in Hirren's lap, crawling to her chest, shaking and blind. Hirren warmed them in her arms, cleaning the remaining egg goo off the tiny creature. Feeding them a tiny crumb from her own bread and from her own bowl of stew.

A nearby Kobold, perching on the table and supervising the rest of the tribe, was watching. Peering first with one eye, then the other.

They said, "You name. You keep. Is baby. You want, you have."

Hirren stroked the pebble-smooth scales, admiring the splash of colours on the new one's hide. "Ammolite," she said. "You are Ammolite Drakfield. Welcome to my home and hearth."

[Photo by Neil P-A on Unsplash]

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