Everyone's first stop was at the storage room. I'll just summarize it, but I collected soft moss clumps, feathers, hay, even towels and formed a makeshift dragon nest on the pedestal provided in our dorm room.

After mooning over the egg for hours on end, reading my book out loud to it, and writing multiple letters to my mom about the magnitude of my emotions, on the second day, it hatched.

Like I said, it was on the second day, precisely at 9:42 AM that the first cracks appeared. I will never forget that time.

I was sitting on my bed, reading my book out loud, when suddenly, there was a breath of movement from the egg. It wobbled ever so slightly, pressing into the soft confines of the nest I painstakingly forged for it.

I gasped, instantly standing up. I was almost too worried to touch or approach it, in fear the egg wouldn't wobble again. But hesitantly, I took a couple steps forward and bent my knees so I was hovering over the egg. Something odd I had noticed was, even though at first it was a royal blue, now it was nearly indigo.

I rested my hand gently on the egg. There was a few minutes of silence before I felt a little kick of movement underneath the thick eggshell. A smile spread over my face. Then I pressed my ear down to the side of the egg, holding my breath in anticipation.

It was barely a few seconds later when I swear I heard a squeak from the egg. I gasped. Every interval between the egg rocking and the dragonet inside squeaking or shuffling around, the rocks got stronger and faster. I could tell the egg would hatch soon.

I waited for nearly twenty minutes next to the egg, my face hurting from a wide smile that I held, as the egg continued to shake and jostle.

And then I heard the tiniest splinter.

It started as just a nick in the top of the egg, nothing noticeable unless you knew beforehand it was there. With a few more splintering sounds, that nick spread in a spiderweb pattern around to top half of the egg; shivering lines in the surface.

With a loud crack, I saw the tip of a tiny, sharp tooth poking out of the eggshell. Briefly I wondered if I should help out the dragonet inside, after I heard a few struggling squeaks from the egg. But I stayed back, because of something else.

I could feel the emotions radiating from the dragonet inside.

There were no words, it couldn't speak yet - Professor Nunda explained this - but I could feel something coming from the little figure who was now working on breaking out of its shell. No, not its. His. It was a he.

He was determined. Lively, excited, and determined. His only goal was to break the egg. His thoughts were singular, going one at a time, because he was still a baby.

With another loud crack, I could see a tiny indigo snout pop out of its matching egg. His nostrils flared as he sneezed, and then worked his whole head out.

After his head came out, his body followed suit as he pushed out of the now remnants of the egg, wiggling to break the shell he had been contained in for so long.

He was stunning.

His body was shaped like a traditional dragon's, his scales a deep and beautiful shade of indigo, his chest and underbelly plated with a wispy silver-blue. His eyes, when he first emerged from the egg, were a shade of gold. He had long, impressive silver horns (for being a baby, at least), and blue-violet "fins" running down his neck, back, and to his tail. On his cheeks were faint, electric blue swirls.

"Wow," I breathed.

When the little dragonet saw me, he did something I would never expect. His eyes, which had been golden just a second ago, turned a shade of hot pink. He tackled me, his wings getting caught in my hair, and I laughed and gasped both in shock and happiness. The little male dragon squeaked as he locked his claws into my messy strands of chestnut hair.

"Okay, enough, enough," I giggled, lifted up the dragonet from under his front legs. His claws dangled helplessly in the air as he grinned at me. His tail swung back and forth, tickling my legs. The little dragonet was about the size of a large cat. His wingspan, when fully extended, was maybe about two feet.

"You know," I said after a moment, bringing him close to me with a bear hug. He squirmed, trying to break free, and I let him go with a playful laugh, "You're gonna need a name."

He turned to me, his eyes, which were still pink, turned golden, and then amber.

"What's with your eyes," I asked him, knowing he couldn't answer. I tapped his nose, adding a little "boop!" I couldn't help it. He was like an adorable little puppy!

"Anyways," I said, realizing I had gotten distracted again. "I think I have a name for you." I spoke aloud. The dragonet sneezed and I giggled.

I cupped his fragile head in my hands, running my thumb over his smooth scales.

"I'll call you Avyn." I gave him a small, sweet smile.

Avyn sneezed again. Right in my face.

I laughed.