Rowan was a young boy, the age of 14 to be exact. He was on a hunt for his family. They lived in the tiny village of South Stow, just off of the big sea. His family was poor and he needed to get something, so his family would have food throughout the rapid coming winter. It was about fall time, the crisp breeze in the air was chilly, and the leaves were crunching under his feet. As he walked for another one or two miles, the forest enclosing him, he finally picked up some tracks and followed the trail. He was at a light jog, hunchbacked, trying to see the tracks which were growing fainter in every step he took. He came across an open meadow, and decided to stop for a while and try to see signs of movement. As he sat, camouflaged, within the tall brush, he saw a doe come strolling into the open. Rowan sat tensed, as the doe was bent over grazing on some grass. Rowan slowly stood up, afraid of any noise that might startle the doe, and drew an arrow from his quiver, and nocked it into place. He drew back the bow, every muscle in his body tense, he had came all this way for one moment. He aimed carefully and let go... The arrow whizzed through the air and missed the doe. The doe was startled and ran off into the underbrush. Rowan, who was fuming, went to go look for his arrow, disappointed that he would have nothing to show for. As he was looking, kicking the grass to try and find a point of his arrow, he suddenly kicked something very hard. His toe exploded with pain as he looked down to see what he had kicked. He pushed the grass away and found a highly polished green stone. He stared at it in awe, as he examined it, trying to get an idea of what it was. The stone was a perfect sphere and it seemed so... pure. Rowan pocketed it and headed back to the town as it was nearing dusk. As he walked on the cobblestone streets he came to his house and he knocked the door. His father answered the door and let him inside. "Well, did you get anything?" asked his father with a look of hunger in his eye. Rowan stuttered for a moment, trying to figure out what to say until he said, "no father, didn't see anything." "Well, you'll have to go again tomorrow Rowan, we are beginning to get desperate for food." Rowan shook his head to show that he understood. He went straight to his room and hid the stone behind his quiver and bow. After a very little supper, Rowan went to sleep with the stone on his mind. Later that night, he had woken with a start and looked out his window. The sun wasn't up so he guessed it was very early in the morning. As he lay on his back, looking at the ceiling, he thought he might as well try and find out what the egg might be. He went and lit a candle, and brought it to his room. In the dim light, he put it on his bed and examined it closely. He suddenly noticed that there were very little cracks, and for some reason he felt the rock... moving. He then felt the rock start to increase in movement as the seconds ticked by. There was then a huge crack down the center and before his eyes, he saw a scaly little hand come out and the shell of the egg came off. Rowan just stared at it for a few minutes and had realized the "rock" had been an egg. Not just any egg, a dragon egg.