T'vor was once more abruptly awoken and snatched up his helm in an attempt to put it on before whoever was entering noticed--but then saw who his newest visitors were, and he grunted. "What do you two want?" He asked of Sephiroth and Anuriel in a somewhat disgruntled tone.
"Well, T'vor, I--we--are a bit at a loss. Damien--"
"What's that lout done this time?" T'vor demanded.
"...Nothing. Aside from giving me these." Sephiroth proffered the little dragonlets. "I'm not exactly sure what I should be doing with them--though they insist that I need to give them names."
T'vor opened, then closed his mouth several times, chewing on the events that had just taken place.
"...Well, names are very important for a dragon--names possess power in dragon magic, in such a way that a dragon essentially grows to become one with their name, quite literally meaning that the dragon and its name give each other purpose and meaning--the dragon becomes the name. So naturally, they want to be named. But...how did Damien come by these?"
"He thought they were river stones. Then they hatched some time after he gave them to me." Sephiroth replied.
"I suppose it's true that some dragons will hide their eggs by burying them or sinking them to the bottom of a river--but usually only when they perceive some great threat which would require the eggs to be further protected...Those eggs may have been several thousand years old."
"That's all very well and good, T'vor, but what about the names?"
T'vor shook his head briefly as if waking himself from a dream. "Yes, of course. Ah, I see you have Anuriel's book. It is full of old legends, but I am not sure how useful that will be in teaching you the specifics of caring for such creatures. I can assist you if you get confused. Naming a dragon isn't usually very easy. Often that job fell to the elder Dragoons, who knew more about dragons than anyone else alive. But we don't have that luxury. If I may?" He held one hand out.
"Sephiroth took one of the little dragonlets and placed it into T'vor's palm. It was the dark grey one.
"Krosis, goraan gein." He told it in a perfect imitation of the creature's native tongue. He examined the dragonlet closely. "Her name is Dunveniz, close as I can tell. She'll be a swift flyer."
"How can you tell she's a she?" Sephiroth asked. "They all look the same."
"Mmm...I can't really explain it to you. When you've been around dragons, you just know. The other three are males. He handed Dunveniz back to Sephiroth, who handed him another--a dark green-and-brown mottled one.
"His name is Yuvongolkren. Near as I can tell, he'll likely be the strongest of the four, physically." He handed back the little dragonlet.
The next one to be named was a black dragon, who had slightly iridescent hide.
"His name is Vulanyolved. I cannot determine his qualities, but that in itself suggests a very strong mind."
And lastly;
"This one's name, as near as I can tell, is Kreinrokun. I feel he'll keep the rest of these troublemakers in line." The name he'd determined belonged to a silvery white male who bore the most striking golden eyes.
"Now that they know their names, you can shorten them. I've never known a Dragoon to call his dragon by it's full name consistently."
"I can see why..." Sephiroth replied, looking at the four of them. "From now on I'll call you lot Dun, Yuvon, Vulan, and Krein. That's not nearly as difficult."
