(If a sentence is marked with ' and ' at the start and end, it is a thought, these will be from Hym's perspective. Once again, comment / rate, if you want to see more!)

Hym’s forest was by no means the oldest forest in Umaran, but it was close enough. It covered a span of tens of miles. Trees rose on all sides, spiraling into the air, their dark trunks and spreading canopies through which the sunlight would filter.

The sky would peek through occasionally, a bright blue glimpse of vast expanses. The undergrowth was dense, typically coated in thorns or other things to make the unprotected body itch. Hym’s forest was also one of the richest in bounty. Pilka berries grew rampant, the Pomo leaves covered the trunks of fallen trees, and the Ohms littered the floor, fallen from the canopies.

The prey was plentiful, fat, tasty animals waiting for roasting. It was also a deadly place. The carnbirds grew to vultures on the efforts of the copious predators. The underbrush covered pitfalls of the worst type. A quiet pond could be a deadly trap of quicksand. You could starve and freeze in the winter, and then be hunted in the spring.

The deeper you got into the forest, the less of a forest it became. Water accumulated in its center, and the foliage grew thicker. It became a jungle, complete with the horrid swarms of insects you would expect. The carnbirds would not thrive here, due to the size of these bugs.

These bugs could be as large the palm of your hand, or as long as your arm. They could have many legs, no legs, wings and no wings. Horrid tentacle coated faces, massive pincers, and the ability to spit acid. They could choke you in a cloud of stink, or sting you with a paralyzing poison. It was not a pleasant place, but it was Hym’s home, and he was accustomed to its perils.

Hym stumbled out of the forest into a clearing, still exhausted from the night’s chase.  Stalking through the high grass, Hym came closer to a hill, dotted with a few rocks. One of the boulders concealed Hym’s home. Coming closer, Hym spotted the star scraped onto the rock that marked the entrance to his home.

Hym couldn’t help congratulating himself on his burrow. There was actually a tunnel concealed near the base of the rock, and excavated in such a way as to keep water out in a rainstorm. Hym crawled into the hole, careful not to damage his wings. While he may have dug it out, he hadn’t exactly had a chance to smooth it down and make it suitable for company.

After a brief crawl, Hym emerged into a hollow in the ground, wide enough for him to stretch his wings, and tall enough for him to stand at full height. Hym carefully placed his newly acquired goods into one of his handmade baskets. He hadn’t just been out for a stroll in the damn woods; he had been on a supply run. A sack full of Pomo leaves, a couple dead squirrels, and this stone.

The rock was smooth, but in an odd way. It seemed to ripple, without sending his fingers on any up or down curves. The stone was simply gray, yet it shone slightly. It still emitted that curious warmth. Picking the stone up, Hym took it to his pallet of woven grass and curled up with it pressed to his stomach, grateful for the warmth.

Hearing something crackle, Hym sat up, listening intently. He had had previous experiences with wild animals wandering into his cave. The sound echoed through the little cave, curiously reverberating. It was emanating from the stone, which was sitting on his lap at the moment.

Faint vibrations were coming from the stone, like some invisible drummer was tapping on its surface. Hym placed his ear next to the stone. Bloody thing sounded like something inside it was moving! At that moment, the crackling turned into a high pitched squeal, and the stone exploded like a grenade.

Stone flew everywhere, bouncing off the walls, and Hym ended up with a bleeding scratch on his face. Terrified, Hym fell over, with an almost comical thump. Something was sitting on his lap, probably whatever was inside the stone. Hym laid prone, his head aching, wishing he had never brought that damn stone home in the first place.

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Should have known it was going to explode. Wizardry never turned out good. Hym nearly soiled himself when whatever was on his lap started moving. It had claws. Bloody hell. It was a magic bird! Hym couldn’t think of anything to do but lay there and hope it didn’t kill him.

The bird slowly crawled up his chest, and looked down its snout at him. Snout? Hym looked into eyes, with irises like a cat. ‘That’s a friggin dragon. There’s a dragon on my chest!’  Hym knew better than to move, even if the damn thing did try to eat his face. Maybe if he played dead it would go away?

The dragon was staring intently into his eyes. They stared into each other’s eyes for about thirty seconds; Hym’s wide and terrified, the dragons glinting. At last, the dragon broke the silence. It spoke in a high rasp, asking, “Father?”

Hym’s eyes widened as the dragon spoke. ‘Dragons can talk?’ He said back to it warily, “Hello, my...My name is Hym.” The dragon snorted, and rasped at Hym, “Yes, I already know that father. Do you have anything to eat?” “Yeah, of course. It’s kind of hard to get it with you perched on my chest like that though.”Vip snorted, and crawled off his chest.

Hym cautiously stood up, checked to make sure the dragon hadn’t quietly consumed any of his limbs, and went for his food cache. Hym reached into one of his chests, and pulled out a stash of berries and leaves. Reaching forward, he offered them to the dragon. It seized on them, ripped up the leaves and started chewing. It spat them out, a nasty grimace in its voice as it asked, “Do you have anything worth eating, then?”

Hym was infuriated enough at the waste to lose his fear, and yelled, “What the hell kind of reaction is that? You come in my cave, you blow your eggshells all over the place, and then act like you’re too good for my food! What is your name anyways? Do you know how hard it is to be pissed at something you can’t call by name?”

‘Holy crap, I just yelled at a dragon. Am I suicidal?’ The dragon, taken aback, quietly said, “I don’t know. You’re my father; you are supposed to name me.”Hym blinked. This dragon thought of Hym as a father. Suddenly feeling like a real dick, Hym quietly said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you. It’s not your fault, I suppose you’re as confused as I am, being a newborn and all that rot. Is the name Vip okay with you?”

The dragon appeared deep in thought, and then nodded abruptly. “I like it. I’m afraid we of the more serpentine persuasion are carnivorous. Do you have any meat?” Hym nodded, and reached into one of the baskets. He pulled out a limp squirrel carcass, and placed it before Vip. Vip took it’s in his mouth, chewed off a piece, and swallowed. In that method, the squirrel vanished bite by bite until Vip looked like a scaled balloon.

Vip, bloated but curious asked, “Where is mother?” Hym, thinking of the lady in red, looked at the dragon and quietly stated, “I don’t know if your mother is still around. I think she might have been…eaten.” Vip eyed Hym, sat for a while, and at last stated, “Very well. I never knew her, so it is hard to mourn as is appropriate.” Hym felt about the same, having lost his own mother before he got a chance to know her.

“It’s cold in here. I need sunlight, or a nice corpse to curl up in. We’re coldblooded, yknow. Dragons, that is. I’m exhausted. Being born is tough work.” Nodding, Hym said, “I don’t have any corpses for you, for shame, but you’re welcome to share my bed. It’s still the middle of the night, and I need to sleep as well. Just don’t go biting anywhere strange.” Laying back on the woven grass mattress, Hym and Vip curled into a ball together, and quietly nodded off.

(Here a period of time in the counting of three years passed. As of the next section, Hym is sixteen, a full grown adult in the treacherous land of Umaran. This section of the manuscript is reserved for future creation.)