[color=f26522]"Gren, show some respect for the dead, man."[/color]  Alph was watching him, one hand up toward his shoulder, absentmindedly stroking the dragon's head.  [i]Ashwing[/i].  [color=f26522]"Whoever that is, they put these eggs here.  We owe them."[/color]  

Four young men had entered the cabin, and four dragons had hatched.  This was amazing, unprecedented.  Alph knew some about the dragon riders of old from songs, though the Empire wasn't fond of hearing them.  Dragons chose their riders.  How likely was it that all four of them had been chosen?  Perhaps the eggs had grown impatient.  That body looked ancient, how long could a dragon's egg sit?  There was a lot he didn't know.

But at least one thing he [i]did[/i] know, a little too well.  [color=f26522]"You guys,"[/color] he said, [color=f26522]"We can't stay here.  I mean, in Mashal.  If the Empire finds out four new dragons hatched... They don't like it when I sing [i]songs[/i] about the riders.  I don't think they'll like four new ones."[/color]