Cautiously approaching Xangord, I spoke to her in Dragon Language, "You probably don't want me here--"
"No I don't," Xangord replied in the same language as I lay nose to nose with her.
"--but between the three of us, I'm the most experienced when laying an egg," I finished.
"You didn't
lay Shalimar's egg. Nogard cut it out of you."
"I'm still the one with the kid though."
"You've got a point. ... Thanks."
"No problem. Know what you're going to name it yet?"
"Xink."
"That's a cool name," I said. Sensing Xangord stiffen, I began to hum an old lullaby that my grandmother had sung to me.
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and, um... you're sending Nogard to help?
Remind me sometime that there's a Shel Silverstein poem I ought to share with you about helping.