The loudest thing I’ve ever heard, the brightest light I’ve ever seen, and I struggle. I cry out a piercing note as my frail arms strain and my mouth clamps down to shatter the walls of my prison. Piece by piece I create a hole and crawl out. It is cold, and so dry. A stark contrast from the warmth of my shellbound womb. I fall to the mound of leaves and soft wild cotton teased by claw of every burr and fragment of stalk. I cry out again, my lungs filling with air, and I see a slow moving grey shape.
My mother lifts me from my bedding, and the softest fabric is brought to bear, cleaning my scales and tiny wings of liquids. Then I am brought close in a clutch with my siblings. We tremble in our new found awareness, and huddle closer to eachother, alive.