His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of several drakonid - he counted three males, not that it was easy to tell - and they all bore eggs. A smile split his jaws as he stood up. They lumbered towards him, and he counted two eggs on each.
Six eggs, then. Wonderful. Deathwing would be happy, at least.
"Place them in the lava... we wouldn't want them to die in the eggs, would we? Master would not be pleased." he hissed, the corners of his jaws turning up. The dragonspawn took the eggs, setting them into a small lava pit.
Six new twilight dragons, ready to be infused with stolen magic. Sartharion turned his attention away from the foul-smelling, lesser beings, and instead wheeled round to face the eggs. Two of the eggs were blue, two were red.... was that another blue in the back? The very last one was a dirty red, and not just from dirt. Blood smeared the lumpy surface of the egg, but what did that matter? Eggs were rare enough in the frozen wastes without worrying about their condition. Sartharion yawned, jaws snapping together with an audible sound, and curled up to sleep.
The one thing he hadn't bothered to check...
...was the species of the last egg.