Not Na Gurnaidh
I made it! I'm in! I'm actually standing inside of Knock Nasheega! Two days of wandering around and around and up and down in wind and rain and mud. I'm surprised that the eggs hatched! I'm glad that they did, though, I don't think I would have made it in without the little guys. They're the ones who found the opening (and I know I must have passed that way seven times at least and never even saw it there!!)
I wasn't actually there when the eggs hatched - do you know how much even one dragon egg weighs? Of course I left them at my base camp! They hatched while I was scouting around and when I came back ... well, let's just say that packing up didn't take all that much time. I have to say, though, that this has taught me one thing. Mgr. Ki spoils her hatchlings rotten! Chopped meat, vegetables, grit - all hand fed and measured. I had no idea that baby dragons could forage for themselves like that right out of the shell. They ate their shells first, of course. But then ... they ate my sleeping bag, tore into my backpack and ate the food I had packed - plastic and all, ate my cooking pans, and the firewood and the stones around the firepit. They must have still been hungry after that because there was half a sheep in camp when I got back. Surprisingly, not as messy as you might imagine!
I'm calling them Eenie, Meenie and Mynie. (Meenie's the spitfire). We're all here inside the hill, doesn't really look like Underhill, though. I guess I better stop writing now, Eenie (the ultraviolet) is trying to eat my notebook. Time to start moving.
I wasn't actually there when the eggs hatched - do you know how much even one dragon egg weighs? Of course I left them at my base camp! They hatched while I was scouting around and when I came back ... well, let's just say that packing up didn't take all that much time. I have to say, though, that this has taught me one thing. Mgr. Ki spoils her hatchlings rotten! Chopped meat, vegetables, grit - all hand fed and measured. I had no idea that baby dragons could forage for themselves like that right out of the shell. They ate their shells first, of course. But then ... they ate my sleeping bag, tore into my backpack and ate the food I had packed - plastic and all, ate my cooking pans, and the firewood and the stones around the firepit. They must have still been hungry after that because there was half a sheep in camp when I got back. Surprisingly, not as messy as you might imagine!
I'm calling them Eenie, Meenie and Mynie. (Meenie's the spitfire). We're all here inside the hill, doesn't really look like Underhill, though. I guess I better stop writing now, Eenie (the ultraviolet) is trying to eat my notebook. Time to start moving.