And so Asche led Brooklyn to a moonlit clearing by the forest. The night was strangely dewy and clear, leaving the sky to illuminate everything with its little burning suns, and the ghostly white light of the moon.
“Brooklyn, will you collect some grasses for a nest?” Asked Asche, staring at the stars.
“Of course!” Brooklyn hurried around the field collecting grass; she was so excited to hatch the egg! Brooklyn ran back and arranged the strands of grass into a cozy nest, where she put the egg in, its tiny orange spark big and glowing a soft buttermilk color. Brooklyn sat down and watched as Asche aimed her glassy horns toward the sky, where starlight gathered in a thin white rope and streamed down to her horns. The starlight dripped a little as Asche hurried over to the moon and flew up towards its light.
Brooklyn had her eyes glued to the sight: a manticore flying by the moon while rays of moonlight reached down to Asche's horns, white like the starlight, but the moonlight was clearly more pure as the light resembled sunlight more than starlight (starlight is more dense and drippy) and seemed supremely delicate and magical.
Then Asche flew down, the tips of her horns glittering silvery white.
“Brooklyn, do you have the egg?”
Brooklyn smiled and nodded and ran to the nest. She returned with the nest and egg. The spark in the manticore egg wasn't buttermilk anymore; it was pure and silver as stardust.
Acshe tapped her horns on the egg, stardust flying off in a miniature flurry until the egg was glittering. Asche roared to the egg, which responded with two husky wails, and then tap, tap, tap.
“Twins!” Asche exclaimed as the egg continued to crack.