At the end of one warm September, a little Tundra named Regan hatched.
Though Clan Noodle Bowl did not so much have a ruling class, for such a thing would defy the very nature of who they were, one would have still not missed the mark to consider little Regan a prized princess- along with Rune, who was her darling twin brother.
As descendants of the clan founders, the fluffy babies were treated much the same as the other hatchlings. In their grandmother's eyes, however, her babies and her babies' babies were always special. It was a status made apparent mostly by a propensity to be tackled out of the blue, fondly gnawed on and carried around to neighbouring lairs by the scruff, so that Grandma Starling's friends must admire her small balls of fur.
The dragons of Clan Noodle Bowl lived a simple life. They were not well-known- a little challenged, for the most part, at the art of making friends. For that, too, was their nature. Clan Noodle Bowl: so-named by popular vote during a period of being particularly overrun with Spirals; the clan for dragons who were not very good at being dragons. The rubbish hunters. Those who pick fights with inanimate objects. Those who came by the lair by sheer apparent chance, only to fit in suspiciously well.
The teasing was only ever good-natured, however: for what Clan Noodle Bowl was best at, was loving one another. Despite their faults, and despite their struggles. Despite not always being very useful, occasionally not being very friendly, some of them not being very pretty. For all their differences and disagreements, they were united on one thing: that the worth of a dragon is not to be found in the hue of his scales, nor strength of magic, or sharpness of claw.
... Even if the residents may have brief periods of forgetting that thing.
It wasn't until maturity that Regan began to find herself restless. Rather than dipping her claws in Grandfather's magical brew- a coming-of-age rite that signified unity by blood, and staying for life- she spent her first birthday as an adult taking good time to think.
Sornieth needed more dragons like her family. More opportunities to see past dominance, and pretty clothing on scaly hides. More opportunities to tell stories, to enjoy- to celebrate each other. More dragons like Mommy, like Daddy, like Grandma and Grandpa and Aunty too.
... and maybe that, paradoxically, was her true calling. To say farewell to all of them.
To travel mountain high and river wide, and bring more soft little children into this world.
To plant the seeds of hope and knowledge and love in their growing little minds.
Let what they do with it, be up to them.