It was two weeks from hatching, supposedly, and it was also Shandura's turn to egg-sit. Ontellonji had been at it all day, and dammit, he wanted some fresh air! Or, as it turned out, just some different air, because a good drink sounded just as good, so after a good, exhausting flight, Ontellonji returned to Driolo, but not to the school. Rather, he found himself one of his favorite bars, landed outside, and ducked through the front door. It was still early in the evening-- it was still afternoon, really-- so it was relatively empty. He spied only a pair of women-dragons giggling in a corner booth-- giggling at him, soon enough, which he was used to and didn't really mind-- one of the hard-core drinkers at the far end of the bar-- oblivious to everyone and everything except his half-full mug-- and a rat anthro near the middle-- poor guy, what a species to be stuck as.

And, of course, the barkeeper, a round and friendly dragon who had the misfortune to be bound to the drunkard human in the corner. What a way to live.

"Heeeey, Barky," Ontellonji grinned at the barkeeper-- barkeep, barky, whatever; no one seemed to know the barkeep's real name, and everyone just called him whatever they felt like. He grinned snaggle-toothed grin back; he was a rather unpleasant-looking mutt of a dragon, but no one minded, since he was free with the tabs and freer with the amiability, not to mention everyone felt a little sorry for him, what with his unfortunate bond.

"Hey, 'Onji," the barkeep wheezed back. "Haven't seen you 'round much lately."

"Been busy," Ontellonji shrugged his wings. "Usual," he added, tossing the barkeep his credit stick.

The barkeep ran it through his scanner and tossed it back. "Heard you was headin' off the planet, joining the Weyrbrats, or somesuch."

"Weyrbrats? You kiddin'? They're last on the list! Horrible name, horrible team to go with it. Naw, I'm picking up with the Firebolts, seein' how that goes."

Barkeep nodded sagely, filling a tall mug with thick, dark beer. "Heard you had kids."

"Heard that, didja?" Ontellonji grinned.

"Did," the barkeep nodded, setting the drink in front of him. Ontellonji took an appreciative gulp. The whispering and giggling in the corner booth stopped, and a sidelong glance showed the ladies to look faintly put out. Apparently they weren't as interested in a father as a bachelor-- as if you couldn't be both. Still, Ontellonji didn't really mind the lack of attention, either; he wasn't like Brio, after all.

"Children?" a voice to his left asked curiously.

"Yup," Ontellonji answered, looking down at the rat anthro who he'd inadvertently sat only two empty chairs from. Given how large he was, compared to the much smaller biped, that wasn't very far.

Actually, given the whole bar was dragon-sized, it made Ontellonji a little curious as to just what someone his size was doing there. "Ontellonji Jariane," he introduced himself, hoping for a name, in return.

He was not disappointed. "Tavarez," the rat-man replied with a friendly grin on his pointed muzzle. "You're awfully young for children, aren't you?"

"Older than I look," Ontellonji shrugged. "Just graduated school a month or two ago, heading off to join the Firebolts once their new season starts."

"Air-hockey, is it?" Tavarez asked.

"Yup."

"What about the children?"

"Well, you know, most dragons bond 'em out, or whatever," Ontellonji said, waving a hand and taking a swig of his beer. "Thinking of taking one or two in, myself, though. Must be the Aven in me."

"While you play air-hockey?" Tavarez suggested with an arched brow and a smile.

"'Course not. Enrolling 'em in the school. Gotta be educated, after all."

"Aaaaah." Both of them fell silent a moment, drinking their respective drinks-- it looked like the rat had ordered some kind of exotic ale; strange one, that! "So tell me about your children?"

A little surprised at the question, Ontellonji did. After talking sports with Shandura, and talking contracts with the Firebolts' agent, and talking training with his friends, talking about kids seemed a nice change. Though they were still in the shell, they each had some forming personality, and all of them could communicate to some extent, some with telepathy, others only by rocking or tapping on their eggs when they wanted something. And, at the very least, Ontellonji could certainly talk about what he hoped for them. It was surprisingly easy to sit and ramble at this Tavarez fellow, and at Barky, who seemed interested enough to listen in when he wasn't busy mixing drinks or serving anyone. Tavarez even asked pertinent questions, rather than just nodding and pretending to pay attention.

When he'd finally started running out of things to say, Tavarez even managed to end the conversation gracefully, stating that he had some things to attend to and thanking him for sharing. As he rose, and prepared to climb down from the very tall-- for him-- barstool, he paused, and fished around in a pocket. "Here... I've had these for a few days, looking for the right people to pass them along to. I think you might be one of them."

Ontellonji held out a paw-hand curiously, and Tavarez settled two small, round, soft packages onto his palm. "For your children-- or, if you only adopt one, a child and yourself. Everyone can use little friends, after all."

"What are they?" Ontellonji asked, mystified.

"Some rather special flitter eggs," Tavarez said, rodent-like black eyes twinkling. "Take good care of them. They ought to hatch around the same time as your offspring, perhaps a day or two later."

"Huh!" Ontellonji looked down at the securely and warmly-wrapped eggs-- so tiny that he could probably loose them in the folds of his palm, if he wasn't careful. It seemed like a good idea, now that he thought about it. "Well, thanks! I bet my kids'll love 'em."

"I'm sure they will," Tavarez chuckled. "Good luck, Ontellonji."

And the rat-anthro hopped down from the stool and made his way out of the bar-- to be promptly replaced by Frux. Frux, who didn't look particularly pleased. Ontellonji sighed. "Heya, pops," he said as the Light dragon arrowed straight for him. "Howzit hanging?"

"I heard something interesting from Pebai this morning," Frux began without preamble.

"Did you, now." He took a long swallow from his beer.

"About you and your children?"

He hadn't been looking forward to trying to explain fatherly motivations to Frux, of all people, but it had to happen eventually. "Shift down and hold these, wouldja? They're too small for me; I'm afraid I'm going to drop them, or crush them, or something."

Frowning, Frux did so, and frowned further at the packages Ontellonji dropped into his hands. "What are these?"

"Presents, for my kids. I'm adopting one or two, as I'm sure Pebai told you." "Adopting one or two" of his own children-- what a riot. "Figure, if I can't be around all the time, might as well leave 'em a pet for company."

Whatever lecture Frux had intended to give seemed to have died unspoken. There was a very long silence, while Ontellonji finished his beer and Frux frowned at the flitter eggs in his hands. When he put his mug down and looked down at his foster-father, at last, Frux merely shook his head. "I'll take these back to school and put them on your room for you, somewhere safe, so you won't lose them."

"Thanks."

"Don't stay out too late."

"Now, you know, just because you said that, I'm going to have to stay out until dawn."

Frux gave him his usual, half-exasperated look, but rather than scolding or sniffing derisively, he merely dropped the eggs carefully into his pocket, patted Ontellonji's tail-- the easiest thing for him to comfortably reach-- and said simply, "You're a good young dragon, Ontellonji. I'm proud of you."

Then he left.

Ontellonji stared after him.

It took him several seconds to turn back to the sniggering barkeeper.

"Barky, I think I'll need another."

"Coming right up, 'Onji."

"But that's it. I think I'll be heading home after."

"Sure thing, 'Onji. Sure thing."