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This is the first time he's ever seen such a thing so close to him, but Gwaine knows what it is. Without question, he knows what it is. He's heard about dragon eggs, but the last he heard, Uther had all the dragon-lords so terrified that they were holing up whatever was left and tucking them away. While Gwaine isn't exactly Uther's best mate, the King hadn't exactly been wrong to fear the creatures. He hates dealing with wyverns -- which are bad enough -- and they're just the littler kin of the dragon.

So here he is with a dragon's egg. He's taken the small object to the beach, sets it on a stone, and lifts his sword from its sheath. This is not something that should be let to pass. If he lets it hatch, who knows what havoc it might wreck upon the island? Yes, he knows the tales -- it takes ages before a dragon grows to an enviable size -- but he doesn't want to take chances.

"I'm sorry, little thing," he says, lifting his sword high up in the air. "But this is for the best."

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"That just tells me that you don't know dragons," Gwaine says, giving her a disbelieving look. "And I don't want to be alone. I want to be able to throw this egg in the ocean and know that I spared us the terror of a dragon's flames burning up everything we've built."

She laughed out loud before bringing her expression back under control. The last thing she wanted to do was tick him off if she was possibly spending the day with him. But she had to ask, "Isn't there already a dragon on the island, I thought I saw a kid with one. It was kinda sweet, didn't look dangerous at all. Sure this isn't one of those?"

"Where I come from, dragons raze down villages," Gwaine says, remembering one of the villages he passed through, subject to the terrible consequences of a dragon's flame. "People die. Homes burn. That's what I know about dragons. One anomaly isn't enough to convince me."

"Like I said, not my gift. You want to make scrambled eggs, I'll help you gather some veggies to go with it."

Trixa took a step back and crossed her arms, curious to see what he would actually do. Would he really crack the damn thing or did she get to help him find a baby dragon-leash when the damn thing hatched.

Gwaine smirks at that, momentarily distracted from his panic and his fear. "An omelet, hm?" he teases, considering the prospect of frying up a dragon's egg. He watches the shell crack, a small beak popping out of the egg. "If this turns out badly, I won't forgive myself," he reasons aloud.

"Yeah, okay, now you're not allowed to smash it." Trixa had seen the crack and while smashing an egg was one thing, bashing in the brains of a baby something wasn't gonna fly. There were few things she'd consider fair game as babies, and mystery dragons weren't on that list.

"Worst comes to worst, we dump it in dino territory and let the lizards all fight it out, okay?" She moved in, intending to get between his sword and the egg.

"Can't I just hit it with my sword and render it unconscious? I could tie it up with a chain," Gwaine suggests. "Uther had some success with that until it broke free." And he's still not sure how that happened, but it'd resulted in a great deal of danger. "It was addressed to me. Why would it be addressed to me?"

"Lots of people get shit this time of year. Sometimes, they're expected to raise it." And I had to admit, the idea of Gwaine trying to raise anything, let alone a dragon, was going to provide Trixa with a great amount of amusement. Once the little guy is safe. Or girl.

"And no, you can't hit it. It's a baby, it's going to barely be able to walk, let alone fly right away. If you want to chain it up, you can wait to get it home."

"It's a dragon," Gwaine retorts sharply, in utter disbelief that she's reducing something of such awesome power to words like 'baby'. He's sure that the vilest of men were infants at some point, as well, but they didn't deserve to live to reign in terror. "Do you have something to tie it up with?"

With a sigh, Trixa unbuckled the belt she was wearing. He was really serious about this, wasn't he? A little thing, however dangerous it might be as an adult, hardly warranted this treatment in her opinion, but hey? The egg was his not hers so whatever.

"I have this and my shoelaces, that good enough for you?"

"Even if we muzzle the mouth..." Gwaine advises. When they're young, they can't fly off. After all, the wing-span is too small. In a matter of months, it'll grow, but for now, they're safe. "Dragon's breath can be dangerous, never mind the fire. We need to muzzle it."

"Fine, fine, I got it. Muzzle the dragon." Pulling with a sigh, Trixa removed the belt and handed it out. The poor thing, she felt a little sorry for it, it was just a baby and if it flamed a little, well, it was learning. Honestly? She'd love a pet dragon - teach it to follow her around, light campfires for her.

Good, God, with Salome Bohemia might become a war zone.

"This was not what I had in mind when I came looking for you, just so you know."

Gwaine takes the belt in his hand and makes a tight knot around the dragon's mouth, trying to ignore the inexplicably adorable noise it makes when he does so. "Don't try and make me like you," he warns the creature, poking a finger in its face. "And well, no, I doubt it would be," he replies to Trixa. "But I'm nothing if not unpredictable, am I?"

"Aw, do you have to..." Trixa heard the little squeak and she felt for the guy. she moved over to it, reaching a hand out to stroke it's back a little. It was kinda adorable in it's lizard self. She might have turned into it's older sister for a little while.

Gwaine shoots her a look that tells her not to mess with him when he's still so dubious about what he's feeling in this case. "I'll get him penned in near the Boarding House. Maybe there's some lore I can look into." What he wouldn't give for Gaius' books right now.

"You could take him to the vet - to Helen, she runs the animal clinic and she's used to this sort of thing." She went back to stroking the little beast and trying to soothe it. Here it expected to have a mother and maybe even little dragon siblings and instead it gets Gwaine. Poor thing.

"She's used to dragons?" Gwaine echoes in disbelief. It's not that it's the strangest thing in the world, but he'd thought them rare. He sighs and rubs a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. "I suppose it's better than letting him sit all alone in the boarding house all day."

Trixa rolled her eyes a little. "I don't know about dragons, specifically, although since there's already one on the island she's probably seen it. But she told me she used to study and help the not-normal side of the animal kingdom."

She wanted to add something about it sure as hell was better than locking the poor thing up, but since she was already pressing her luck she decided to talk to the little dragon instead. "I'm sure Helen will love you, you cute little thing, even if your daddy over there doesn't."

"I'm not his--" He lets out a frustrated sigh and scowls. "At least don't call me its father. I'm more of a helpful friend." He crouches down in front of the dragon and taps his snout with two fingers. "Hello there, little one," he says. "What am I going to call you?"

"Nope, you're the daddy, Gwaine, this little guy's, gal's, life is in your hands." She winces a little as he taps the dragon, it can't have enjoyed that, could it? Dogs didn't, hell, no animal she'd met or been ever had.

"And since you're offering to give it a name, you're definitely the daddy."

"You know, I've had nightmares that went like this," he says off-the-cuff, staring at it and sighing heavily, reaching down to give the muzzle a light tug with his fingers. "C'mon, then, little guy. I suppose you can live for today."

"I don't think it's leash-trained. You might have to carry it. It is only..." Trixa checked her imaginary watch, and did the mental math. "...about five minutes old. Be a little mean to make it walk all that way."

Leaning down she gave the little thing another scratch along the crest of it's head. "You don't want to be mean to it, do you? It might hold a grudge."

Gwaine rolls his eyes, but he crouches over to pick up the creature, keeping it in his arms and feeling like a complete idiot -- which is not the first time, but he'd thought his days of idiocy would at least be reserved for when he's drank too much. "If he burns me to a crisp at night, I'll haunt you, just to say I told you so."

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