Darkness was all he could see, but he didn't panic. No, it was warm in there, he was never hungry, or tired, he didn't even know what those words meant. Safe, it was safe in there. Nothing to do, nothing to worry about.
Until he felt the first tremor shake the ground. And suddenly, his egg, his home, didn't feel so safe. Panic bubbled in his gut as his egg tipped over, his skull bashing into the shell. He cupped his claws over his snout with a whimper of pain. But he didn't have time to dwell over the pain that blossomed in his nose, because with the next tremor, the egg smashed against the side of the cave, and he tumbled out into the world.
Darkness, it was still dark outside. Confusion set in, it wasn't supposed to be dark. It was supposed to be bright, so bright he had to cup his claws over his eyelids. It was supposed to feel warm, safe, like he never left his egg. Instinct screamed at him to find the nearest source of warmth and cuddle, he would be warm, protected. He staggered to the nearest heat source, it was big, dangerous, fierce. But he wasn't scared, quite the contrary, he felt safe, like this big bundle radiating power would always protect him. As he scrabbled to position himself close to the large oven, it felt like that to him, his claws slipped on something wet on the cave floor. His snout wrinkled as he smelled the iron tang of blood.
"My son," a sudden voice boomed out, echoing around the cavern walls. He squeaked as he rolled back, wings flapping uselessly in a desperate bid to regain his feet. The deep voice chuckled, but there was a hint of pain to it, physical and emotional. The dragon carefully moved closer to the little hatchling struggling on the floor. "We don't have much time, soon those hunters will break through the magic layers I put around this cave and everything I've done will be for naught."
Suddenly, something warm was shoved into the whelp's (baby dragon searched it up on google :) tiny jaws. His jaws immediately clamped down on the offending object, needle-like teeth sinking into warm flesh where metallic scales had been ripped off. Blood seeped down his throat, and he swallowed. His vision swam and he collapsed, wings sprawled out messily. The last thing he heard was his father's comforting voice.
"Sleep, my son. And when you awaken, you will have the knowledge of all those who came before you. You will not make the same mistake I have. I will hold the barrier for however long is needed, and when you wake, I will be here to talk and sort out those memories."