The eternal silence was broken by the crunching of frozen foliage as he raced on. His legs burned, but he continued regardless. It wouldn’t do to be caught with stolen evidence, especially so close to the crime scene itself.
(Was it his imagination, or was the egg in his arms getting heavier?)
Right on cue, it began to shake. Well, shit. He’d noticed that the egg was pretty big, but he hadn’t thought it was that close to hatching.
Well, this was probably far enough. As long as he hid the shell properly, nobody would ever know he’d taken anything.
(Though that did raise the question of what he would do with the newborn. He really hadn’t thought this out very well at all.)
A long crack appeared on the emerald green eggshell, startling the thief. All of a sudden, he realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to do during a hatching. Did he try to help the little one out of their shell, or was he supposed to leave it be until they were properly out? Blissey had offered to bring him to a hatching a few times, but he’d never gone out of a fear that he would be underfoot the whole time. Now, he was wishing he’d gone anyway.
As the thief panicked, a small crunching sound dragged him from his thoughts. A little green hand popped out of a newly made hole in the shell, followed by little green head with large yellow eyes. The thief distantly recognized the newborn as a treecko. The tiny green gecko peeled a shard of eggshell off of themself, and chirped up at the thief adorably.
He hadn’t had a plan for what he was going to do with the egg when he’d stolen it. He definitely hadn’t planned to keep it. But he couldn’t just leave a little baby all alone so close to temporal tower. He sucked in a deep breath, and scooped up the infant.
“Hey, kiddo. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
Treecko chirped agreeably and snuggled into the thief’s shoulder, and his heart melted.
A doodle of the dashing wanderer that I drew a while ago.