The shrill hooting of an owl woke Mauzha. She scowled sitting up, it had to be very early in the morning, as the sun hadn't even begun to rise. The dark shapes of her three brothers were visible on the other side of the hut, still fast asleep. Mauzha glowered up through the canvas roof, it had to be just above her to be so loud. Cursing silently, she got up from her bedroll, she was a very light sleeper, and would only toss and turn if she tried to go back to bed now. She may as well try to get some of her never ending chores done.

Mauzha was a relatively youthful urgal, but she bore the responsibilities of a much older woman. Ever since her mother had died during the birth of her youngest brother, she had been tasked with the upbringing and care of three rather boisterous little boys. It often seemed like her work was never done. Her father spent most of his time away from the family, hunting the local game for them to eat. So Mauzha was alone in her work most days.

As quietly as she could, Mauzha exited the hut, pausing to collect a bucket. She winced slightly as it clanked. One of her brothers snorted loudly, but he did not wake. Luckily the moon was large, so she didn't have much trouble finding her way to the bank of their local creek in the darkness.

Mauzha knelt on the rocky bank and quickly filled the bucket. The stream flowed directly from the Spine, and was as cold as the ice it had melted from. The mountains loomed on the horizon, solemn sentinels of the village, they always made her feel safe and secure. Especially since the humans of the are were unreasonably terrified of said mountains.

On her way back she stopped and frowned, the torches in front of the Herndall's hut were lit, and smoke could be seen wafting out from the opening on the top of the hut. They were having a meeting of some sort. A shiver of excitement ran through her, perhaps the dragon egg they had been gifted with had finally hatched? It had been almost a year, since Firesword and the dragon Flametongue had visited the Bolvek tribe. They had promised the Urgralgra that they too, would be riders in the new generation. Several months later an elf arrived carrying a single steely gray dragon egg, which was quickly hidden away in the large hut the Herndall called their own. Mauzha had considered herself lucky just to catch a single glimpse of it.

It would be a great honor to the Bolvek tribe if the little dragon was hatched to one of it's members, and whoever became it's life partner would be part of the Urgal's stories forever. But it hadn't even so much as stirred with its shell since it had arrived.

The same owl that had woken her hooted again, and she jumped, startled out of her trance. There was work that needed doing back home, she couldn't afford to waste time staring like a slackjawed idiot. Setting her bucket of water down just a few yards from her hut, she ventured back inside on her tiptoes. After making sure her brothers were still sleeping soundly, she collected her prized copper pot from the wall.

It had been a gift from her father when she had reached adulthood, something he had obtained in the human cities when he had been a warrior for the Varden. Mauzha loved the way the light caught the orange metal, and it was quite a useful cooking utensil.

The rest of her early morning passed without incident, she had started a fire in the pit behind their hut, and set about making a light soup with potatoes and some other vegetables for the family's breakfast. It had just begun to boil as the sun came up over the ridge of the Spine, and the other inhabitants of the village began to stir.

Mauzha's neighbors to the left were the first to wake, they were an older pair of urgals, their children had long since found families of their own. They smiled and waved at her, as they began their own morning routines. It wasn't long before the entire village was bustling with activities, families waking and making their own breakfasts.

A large shadow fell over her, and Mauzha looked up. It was Turgzah, the kull that lived in the hut next to hers. He was practically kneeling over her with a humorous look on his face.

"You're up and moving early as always." He grinned widely, showing of his relatively whole teeth. Mauzha tossed her mane of black shaggy hair over her shoulder, and shrugged.

"The owls keep me up this time of year, with their hooting." She gently stirred the simmering soup with a carved wooden spoon. "I suppose you're here to mooch off more stew?" She raised an eyebrow and looked up at Turgzah.

Turgzah sat on the ground next to Mauzha, taking up half of the little patch of grass in front of her hut they called a yard. He grinned again, "Only if you're offering."

Mauzha scowled and flicked a few droplets of the soup off her spoon at him. "Oh go find your own breakfast Turgzah, a mighty hunter like yourself shouldn't be scavenging off families like mine." Turgzah unsuccessfully ducked under the droplets and caught most of them on his face. It did little to dampen his cheery mood however.

"Oh come on, just this one time, Mauzha? Today is my day to see the dragon egg, after all!" He jeered back. Mauzha heaved a rather grumpy sigh.

"Fine. Just don't eat all of it like you did the last time." She rubbed at her temples, just beneath her horns, as Turgzah ran off back to his hut like an excited young boy. Getting up, Mauzha picked up her bucket with a tiny bit of water remaining, and opened the door to her hut.

"Time to get up, you slugs!" she exclaimed as she snatched away the blankets from each of her younger brothers, one by one. Berrvagh, the eldest curled up into a tight ball and covered his head, but gave no sign of getting up. The middle brother, Tarosh, sat up, rubbing blearily at his eyes. And finally the youngest, and the only Kull of the siblings, Ovraghn, awoke.

Ovraghn was only eight years old, but he was still taller than Mauzha, and took up the greatest ammount of space in the rather tiny hut. But he was a sweet child, and was always much better behaved than his older brothers.

Mauzha helped Tarosh and Ovraghn get dressed in their clothes for the day, while Berrvagh continued to refrain from getting out of bed. She ushered the two young boys out to the pot, where the mooch Turgzah was already waiting, bowl in hand. Rolling her eyes, she sat them both down around the fire and went back inside to deal with the eldest brother.

"Get up, Berrvagh! The lazy urgal never wins fights!" she chastised, but he did not move. Sighing impatiently, Mauzha picked up her bucket, and dumped the last bit of it's water onto her brother. He jumped off his bedroll with a start, and glared at her impetuously. Mauzha returned his glare with an equally imperious one, and merely pointed out the door. "Go have some breakfast if those three have left you any, and when you are done take your bedroll out to dry."

"But you're the one that got it wet-" Berrvagh started to interrupt her but was silenced by the intensity of Mauzha's glare, and trudged outside. Her brothers had long learned not to question Mauzha, lest they be the victim of a rather nasty beating. Luckily for the boys, Mauzha did not dish out such punishments as often as she had seen some other urgal parents. War may be in their blood, but that did not mean they had to beat their own kin senseless.

Turgzah had already dished out soup for Ovraghn and Tarosh, and was beginning to dole out a third for the stubborn Berrvagh when Mauzha exited the hut. She was dismayed by the ammount of soup both her youngest brother and her nosy neighbor were able to put away. Kull always ate way more than an average urgal.

All that was left for her were the very dregs of the soup, and the few potatoes her brothers had skipped over for the bits they preferred. But Mauzha did not complain, it was a great deal better than going hungry. Besides, it was just breakfast.

And so morning moved on to noon in that fashion, Mauzha shooed Turgzah back to his hut so he might prepare to meet the dragon egg, Berrvagh grudgingly hung up his bedroll and a few other blankets to dry, while Ovraghn and Tarosh helped Mauzha wash the pot and the several bowls and utensils used.

Ovraghn however became overly distracted trying to dig up worms near the bank of the stream, so little Tarosh was the most helpful. He looked up at his sister with large eyes.

"What if Turgzah gets the egg to hatch for him? Wouldn't that be so cool!" he dunked his bowl with slightly more enthusiasm than normal.

"It would be very great if Turgzah got the dragon, there would be much honor for him and his family line." Mauzha smiled down at him, "But, he would also have to leave the village for a very long time, wouldn't you miss him?" Tarosh suddenly seemed to sober up.

"Would he have to leave forever?" he now looked absolutely distressed at the idea. While he was rather lazy, Turgzah got along very well with her three brothers, and often played together in the woods.

"He might. Dragon Riders live very far away from here, so far that even dragons take a long time to travel there." Mauzha said, as she scrubbed the inside of her pot with a rag. Tarosh frowned.

"But he could still come back right?"

"Yes, it would just take a few weeks of travel." She frowned. "Or Months. I do not know where exactly Firesword decided to settle, but I know that it is far." Ovraghn approached her and shoved a handful of worms in her face.

"Look I got bait for fishing!" He gleefully waved the worms in front of her. Mauzha smiled and gently pushed his worm filled hands away from her face, "That's wonderful, Ovraghn. You should save them for when Father comes home. I know he loves to fish." The young kull lit up with joy, as did Tarosh.

"I want to go fishing with Father!" He bounced about, almost knocking the now clean bowls into the river. Mauzha quickly collected them and stored them in her pot before standing.

"I'm sure Father would love to take all of us fishing. Now come on, it's almost time for your lessons." She ushered them back to the hut, Tarosh and Berrvahg groaned unhappily, while Ovraghn seemed to care only about his worms. Mauzha pulled a worn hide bag from the hut and gave it to the little Kull. "Here, keep the worms in this so you don't squish all of them." Ovraghn nodden enthusiastically, and, perhaps a little counter productively, began shoving the worms into the bag.

"What do you think Instructor Geshan will be teaching us today?" Tarosh piped up. Berrvahg scowled and replied,

"Probably grappling techniques like we've been learning for the past month. It's like he think's we're stupid because we aren't Kull." He shot a rather jealous look at his youngest brother. Mauzha frowned at him.

"Geshan dosen't think you're stupid. He just spends longer on techniques so you learn them fully. He's the best teacher in this area of the Spine, even if he's missing an eye!" She reached out and bonked Berrvahg between the horns. "Besides, I heard he might take you out practicing for this years upcoming feats of strength." All three boys eyes widened at this.

After the great war, the humans and urgalgra had come to an agreement to test their strengths against each other without killing one another. Last years contest had been a resounding success, and ever since the three brothers, even surly Berrvahg, had been chomping at the bit to get a chance to compete. Berrvahg, all but bolted out of their hut, finally motivated to go to his lesson. Tarosh almost tripped over his feet trying to catch up.

Ovraghn watched them go quietly, then looked back over at Mauzha, holding out the bag of worms. "Take care of my worms while I'm gone please?" Mauzha smiled, taking his bag of worms.

"I will protect them with my life, now go, before you get marked late." She shooed him out of the Hut. It was suddenly very quiet and lonely without her brothers. Mauzha sighed, and hung the bag of worms from one of the many posts. Sitting on her bedroll she opened a decorative wooden box, and pulled out a bone needle and some sinew thread to begin mending clothing.

It was days like this she wished she could be out there learning to fight with her brothers. Truth be told, if she hadn't had to play mother to them, she could. Ugral women didn't usually go to war with the men, but it was usually good for them to receive fighting lessons, just in case. But she didn't resent them for their opportunity, with this training they would grow up to win many battles, and find good mates.

Glancing outside her door she saw Turgzha waving at her, as he walked down the path towards the Herndall's hut. It would be amazing if the dragon hatched for him, one of her very own neighbors, a dragon rider. She snorted back a laugh, perhaps she would be remembered in his songs as the woman who fed the great dragon rider Turgzha breakfast every day...

Well! They say the hardest part about writing is getting started, and hopefully that was a good enough start! I'd love any feedback and reviews, this is my first time writing a really well thought out and planned fan-fiction.

Stay tuned for the second chapter, I might get to cranking that out soon, as I'm in a productive mood!

Update!- I've finally gotten back into the swing of writing! School and work have been a little unhelpful in that regard, but I've tweaked the end of this chapter and have the second chapter almost good to go! Thank you for reading!