Excerpt from 'Fate'

The cavern was dark and dank, the only light a faint reflection from some unknown source, glistening on the walls and in the puddles.  Pressure hung in the air from the earth crushing down above, but I didn't mind it much for it was all I'd ever known.  The walls of the chamber were vaguely detectable, a more solid shade of darkness within the black.  A light draft of more earthy air was all that told of a trajectory branching off.
Faint squeals and giggles bounced off the slick walls, and black claws clattered on the coarse stone floor.
I stared at the other hatchlings with their scarlet scales and felt a pang of sorrow.  They wouldn't let me do anything with them.  Pathetically, I tried to encourage myself, thinking, But I enjoy being different.  I opened my mouth and tasted the dank cold of the cave, shivering.  The others liked it here-- that's what they said.

I stood, the cold air fingering my flesh, and trotted over to a puddle.  My gait was light despite the dreary place, and hope flickered within me, for I had an idea.  It was too dark to see much of a reflection, but I knew that the water was full of red grit from the cavern stone.  I stretched out a claw and submerged it in the shallow pool.  I sucked in a quick breath when I felt the icy cold, and immediately drew my toe it out.  The red sediment was clumped on my pale and numb skin, and though it wasn't the effect I had hoped to achieve, it was pleasing.

I bounded over to the rock pedestal, ivory claws clacking, and clambered up to the scratchy grass nest on top.  It smelled old and stale, but at the edge of my mind instinct flickered its interest at the scent of the outer world.  Blinking my red eyes, I located the three others in the dark, tussling with glinting, bloody scales.

"Hey, wantchu tuh play wi' ma claw?" I boisterously cried out, hopeful.  I brandished my red foot as encouragement, and then to my sorrow realized most of the mud had dripped off.
"No, we dunt.  Now guh play with youself."
I scowled, knowing they hadn't even considered me for a hearbeat.  Their words and logic hurt and made little sense to me.  Finding that I was still staring, the young one who had spoked lashed his tail aggressively, stopped, and then glanced back over his shoulder and whined.

"Muddaguard, Gy'la' is bad an' mean!"

I flinched and lowered myself to the ground, awaiting the angry snarls and scolds that would soon issue from the mother-guard's mouth.  The soft scrape of scales foretold her wrath, and she hulked over me for a few moments before speaking.  With a rasping voice she spat all manner of hateful words my way, most of which I didn't understand.  When the adult sank back down to rest and I crept away from the others, slipping off the nest to huddle by some stones at the pedestal's base.  I stared at the puddle a length away, feeling numb.