Conversation

The collapsing egg in his palm twitched, crunched, crumpled, and then feathers spilled and claws scrabbled out from the wreckage, flailing free as soft blue light dribbled between his fingers. He let out a string of curses that would have put a sailor to shame and started to flail himself, until he caught sight of the bright black eyes; the delicate head and tiny wings as pale as snow nearly falling from a precarious perch on his sleeve.

He brushed faceted, rainbow-hued shell away carefully, watching the hatchling as it found a better purchase on his arm. With every movement, the new plumage chimed softly like glass bells, and sparks of light ignited like stars in the soft fluff atop the creature's head.

His heart beat wildly. He was used to swords, not soft things. But this gentle bird was a being made of myth. And given that myths seldom had mothers and he saw only frost and flowers in this valley, he supposed it was time to learn new things. #MastoPrompt #MicroPrompt