Excerpt from “Flight of the Griffins”

The egg rocked violently beneath her hands. Shivering. Cracking. Riviiana’s stomach twisted. The largest egg, the black egg, was hatching.

Riviiana had been present for a falcon hatching, but this was far more violent. She had no idea how a mother griffin treated hatchlings. Nothing but guesses about what they ate, or how often.  But judging from the lattice of cracks appearing on the shell, the hatching wouldn’t take long.

Brushing aside the straw and feathers, she made sure the egg had plenty of room. With a violent jerk a chunk of shell fell away. Inside the dark opening something darker writhed, barely visible in the firelight.

Another shiver and the crack split the length of the egg. The crack widened, a shiny black beak thrusting through. Another thrash and the two halves fell away, the griffin tumbling to the straw.

Riviiana gasped. The griffin was the size of a cat. The tiny wings and head were covered in a soft, wet, black down. A mane of short hairs covered its back, but much of the rest of it was hairless, including the four clawless paws. And it was obviously male.

The hatchling slowly lifted his head and chirped pitifully.


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