"It seems you're truly alright. Now, do you have any questions? Any requests for your doctor? Anything?" Lazuardi asked, unhurriedly gathering his instruments and tucking them into his medical bag.
His sky-blue hair was escaping its ponytail, and his spectacles were still slightly fogged from the steam of the birthing pool, but his demeanor was as calm and unhurried as ever.
"Profe—Doctor, how do I..." Cecilia hesitated, glancing at the egg resting on its bed of glowing coals. The cracked obsidian surface pulsed rhythmically and peacefully, like a heartbeat made visible. "How do I carry Sol around when I want to carry them around?"
Lazuardi raised his eyebrows. "Right. You're not a dragon," he said, nodding. "If they just sit on their coal bed, the shell will be quite hot, so be careful when picking them up."
