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The line for the breeders always moves with deliberate slowness. For the maturing kobold Prastlerdai, it is an even more excruciating wait. After all, it is only sometimes that a significant and essential kobold like Prakibak offers someone his space.

The kobolds around the newly matured tribemate murmur and shake their heads, discussing matters of recognition of the strange newcomer and annoyance at the special treatment given to such an unknown high-ranking member of their community.

And it is that high-ranking member who comes, stumbling from the darkness and hiking up his dangling loincloth, who thunders up to the smaller creature. "You!" He barks, panting, sweat glistening on his scales.

Some of the rather amorous kobolds lean out from their place in line to get a glance at the glowing god standing before the small supplicant.

"You're Prastlerdai, right?'

The scrawny kobold claps their hands together, bouncing on their toes. From the back of their little throat issues a squawking yip.

"Nope, nope, no worship here. You need to get out of this line now!"

Prastlerdai steps back, gritting their teeth, growling.

"Oh, don't get me that. You're coming with me, young kobold!"

With that, the mighty arm of the dig-boss grabs the smaller kobold by the horn, dragging them away from the line. Eagerly, the remaining members of the tribe fill in the space without a moment's hesitation, leaving Prastlerdai to watch with frowning eyes as the ticket to happiness escapes their grasp.

Prakibrak takes the bold down a cavern path while Prastlerdai hisses and claws and kicks. The whole way down, however, the dig boss is undeterred in his mission and marches ever onward to a place of privacy among the tunnels of the Dragon's Heir.

Once at the end of a long-abandoned project, the muscly kobold tosses the smaller as if nothing but a paper doll, causing them to stumble and spin but catch themselves against the wall.

"Now, you know very well why you shouldn't have been in that line, little one."

Prastlerdai snorts, crossing their arms over their chest.

Prakibak squats down in front of the younger kobold, hands on his knees. "Listen. There are rules put in place for a reason. I know you and your nestmates are acclimating to all the new freedoms much better than us old men are, but that doesn't mean you have the right to break very sacred, fundamental tenants of our culture."

Prastlerdai blinks, tilting their head.

Stroking his chin, Prakibak continues. "The whole division of the young and the mature is important, and I know you still got a few hours left in ya to be a kid. I know you're rarin' to go at it with the breeders." He huffs, running a hand through his ridges.

"Tell me, what do you work in?"

Prastlerdai huffs and shrugs but finally, slowly, squeaks out a response. "Farming."

"Now that's an important job, filled with patience and smarts," Prakibak says, poking the smaller kobold in the chest. "But, it should also be one where you're using yer arms, and I can tell you don't use yours. I should know: I was the same way when I was a kid, and I got out of my work and was a little sustained for it. If you're a farmer, you need to put more effort into your craft.

"I don't wanna. I wanna... I wanna."

Prakibak stands up, growling. "There ain't no reason to be so indecisive here in the Dragon's Heir tribe, sport. You were just a minute ago trying to trick me into getting you laid before you could legally, and that could have gotten both of us in deep, deep trouble."

"Worked, didn't it?"

"Until your friend ratted you out." Prakibak chuckles and then leans in, a hand on the wall above Prastlerdai's head. "So, tell me. What were you and your friends doing, walking by the lines for the breeders, huh?"

"Nothin'"

He snorts.

"Something."

"You didn't just want to get laid tonight, did ya? You wanted to see someone there. Someone important to ya. Someone you hadn't seen in a long, long while.

Prastlerdai sinks, trembling.

"That's okay, kid. It's been a while since I thought about her, and that's how these things tend to be around here. Our only bonds are with our nestmates and the people on our crew, and yer mama wasn't neither for me."

Prastlerdai tenses up.

"Nah, she was a fun night and one I remember quite well. Been a little over eighteen years since that day, I reckon." He sighs. "Now, I always considered myself a traditional kobold. Never wantin' to rock the boat, but I gotta tell ya, those ladies out there in the Dragon's Heir...? They're somethin' special. So, if you know any," he pauses, sniffing. "Or are one," you'd best remember that."

Prastlerdai nods quickly.

One by one, mushrooms all around them glow, lighting up their scales. Prakibak chuckles. "Well now, far as I can tell, once all the mushrooms in the tunnel are a-glowin', you can get right in that line. So, why don't we sit here for a moment," he says, finding a nice rock to plop on, "and you tell me about yourself, kid."

Prastlerdai finds another rock and plops down, looking up at the giant kobold.

"It ain't normal, I suppose, but hey, it seems we're both into doing things that aren't normal." Prakibak coughs into his head, rolls his shoulders, and sits up. "So, I suppose we should start this right."

Prastlerdai gulps, rubbing their tail. "I'm confused."

Prakibak sneers. "Hey there, confused... I'm a dad."