Aww... It’s a cute baby dragon. Ever since it hatched, it has been hiding among the tree leaves.

And look! It has grown wings! It must be close to maturing.

Young dragons are relatively defenseless. They are born with relatively soft scales, which are shed and replaced with harder ones as the hatchling matures. Once a hatchling’s wings grow in, it typically marks the beginning of maturation. At this point they are often capable of hunting on their own and are usually left alone by their mother.

...The green striped hatchling lay delirious and thrashing under the hold of the deadly sickness that gripped his small, fragile body. Sweat dripped off his thick wings and dribbled from his sides as he gasped for breath. Each breath he took was more ragged than the last, and his lungs burned from the effort. His swollen tongue lolled limply out of his mouth, and his glazed, weary eyes stared blankly in confusion and pain.

"All in the name of Science" they had said. Perhaps this was his name. Ever since he hatched he'd been hearing that same phrase over and over again, especially after he'd contracted this terrible sickness.

As he thought of this, he attempted to lift his feverish head to the cool rock lying only a foot from him, to no avail. He let out a single low whimper.

Suddenly, it was over. Out of shock his eyes flew open. He looked around suspiciously, as if expecting the sickness to return upon him like a dragoness returning for her kill, but there was nothing.