Ah yes, the farm life. Treated y'all well, and it was nice. Since John had been discharged from the army, you two had lived on a farm in the Dakota farms. Fresh air, blue skies for the most part, and green grass. You were specifically animal farmers, with cows, pigs, a few turkeys, and some broody chickens.

These chickens had two defining personality traits; They hated everyone, and they would plop their feathered asses on anything remotely egg shaped. A rock? Sat on. A duck egg they likely stole? Sat on. One of the turkey eggs? You guessed it, sat on. So it didn't surprise your husband when another chicken, specifically a little spice ball named Bethany, was brooding over a large egg. He didn't give her a second glance, and didn't check what egg it was, because he figured it would either hatch and run off, or it would be dormant.

So everyone was shocked when John went out to the coop and saw.. A dragon's head sticking out from under a very bewildered Bethany. The chicken didn't object when John scooped the egg, which he now finds is a shade of purple and green, from under her. He stares at it for a moment, its scaly purple head-no, green? Some sort of purple/green shift colored its scales-sticking out from one side of the egg, its tail sticking out from the other and wrapping around his wrist.

Dragons weren't uncommon, no, but they usually hatched in the mountains. John huffs and sets the egg down in a safe spot of the field and went to go check on the pregnant heifer in the barn. About 20 minutes later, the dragonet was clinging to Johns boot, squeaking pitifully. Where it still is now, as he talks to you, relaying this information while you stare at the scaly creature. It looks up and squeaks again, making you furrow your eyebrows.

"What do we do with the little beast?" John questions, staring at it. "It's not like I can just go up to the mountains, they're 10 hours away!"