At 2:45 in the afternoon, (since the moon's peak was earlier than the last few times, at 6:53 PM), Silkworm's loss of mental control was observable. Come 3:00, the only peculiar thing seemed to be his unforgiving moaning and groaning. I was a little worried to see how uncomfortable he appeared, but I crossed my fingers and warned the moon. I also brought up a bowl of soup, but he pushed it away and demanded pickles with mayonnaise, of which we have neither nor. I apologized, but there was nothing else he wanted (cuddles, a bedtime story, to play a game...), and he regressed to rolling around on the floor clutching his stomach and groaning some more.
I'd been keeping us both locked up in my bedroom, just in case anything went wrong and because Silkworm has been known to lose his instinct to hide from humans during full moons. By 6:00, the apparent pain only seemed to be affecting Silkworm worse, and all I could think to hope for was for the moon's peak to be the climax and after it passed, Silkworm would start to feel better.
...That's somewhat how it happened.
At exactly 6:53 PM, the peak of the full moon, Silkworm coughed up a tiny egg. He was perfectly painless after that, but relief couldn't reach me seeing as there was now a mysterious egg on the floor and who knew what that would entail. Silkworm rolled around playing with it until a crack appeared on the side a few minutes later, and soon enough, there was a dragon hatchling popping out of its shell.
Slime dripped from the critter as it stretched its sage green wings. It opened its mouth wide for a yawn, showing off razor sharp teeth, though only a squeaking noise came out. Two dull horns were poking out by its pointy ears, and a set of four short claws jutted out from each of its four feet. It looked a bit disproportionate, but I figured it must be because it had yet to grow into its big head. Within seconds of hatching, it took to the window with a few ungainly flaps of its wings. Silkworm climbed up the radiator and sat on the windowsill to open the window for the baby dragon, and out it flew without so much as a snuggle goodbye.
Silkworm didn't seem phased. I'm sure he would have been if he was conscious, but the moon still had him hostage. He climbed up onto the cat tree in the corner of the room and curled up in the lower cave. He slept until 9:30 that night, unfortunately missing the rest of Valentine's Day, and woke up right as I was getting ready for bed, but I made time for story time. He felt quite violated.
We don't know what to think. First of all, if a magical creature hatches into the human realm, can it go back to the magic realm? And secondly, why in the world would the moon give it to Silkworm to cough up and hatch in the human realm--and does this make Silkworm its mother? Who knows? Questions seem irrelevant when answers aren't around to be found. We are wondering if the dragon will ever show up again, though. It seems like a plausible thought.
Read about how full moons affect Silkworm here, and read more full moon stories here!