After being woken from her hundred-and-fifty-year nap by bumbling explorer Haliver, Ona bumps into her estranged wife and a fight breaks out over a dragon egg.

—

The skywalker gasped at the sight of Ona, pulled out a sketchpad, and started to sketch her. "By the goddess! An Old One!" she cried, tongue in teeth, feverishly sketching away with a bit of charcoal. "I can't believe it! The proper size and covered in moss and everything! The university isn't going to believe −!" she muttered to herself. She glanced up and noticed Ona's baffled, irritated face. "Er – Don't mind me! I just need to sketch you and then you can go back to your nap. It looked cozy."

—

"No. I prioritized my own survival." Emora shook the egg in her grasp, eyes urgent and wide. "Don't you understand? This is bigger than some bird women dying in the swamp! This is the return of our world!"

"I would see Ozmora return, but not at such a price."

Emora snorted as if Ona were a naïve child, and in that moment, Ona felt a naïve child.

"Blood is always the price," Emora said – simply, quietly.