Sarea always felt a little down after work. The way she held her head while walking home, the weakened gestures from the moment she clocked out; none of it seemed to fit her typically happy-go-lucky spunk. Many asked what was wrong every day and got nothing but a hint of a smile and a non-explanation.
For someone like her- someone so caring- to be working in the Nursery seemed almost natural. She should be enjoying it, but she simply couldn't. Why? She loved children too much.
There was too much pain involved when she had to send the kits, pups, and even eggs home, having grown so attached to them in the short time that they were under her care. She hated to see them go, even if it was right for them to go with their parents, and she felt as if she were losing a part of herself every time a new family left through those front doors. Sure, a few would write; the walls of her apartment were littered with letters of thanks or updates on how the children were doing. She knew people cared, but that wasn't enough.
The Serraptor sighed, glancing down at the egg shaped pendant that she had replaced the traditional bone with. A symbol of her pain, she thought almost sarcastically. To spend so much time here and yet know that the place could never offer you the same happiness as it did so many others was beyond upsetting. Serraptors couldn't come here; only the chosen few. She cursed it as much as she loved it. Maybe one day, she would always tell herself, but not today.
She was almost dragging her feet by the time she reached the door. Sometimes she seemed to be getting worse by the day... Still, she would be back tomorrow. She pushed open the door to begin her long trudge home. And that's when she saw it, a bright red egg in the middle of the path, blinking at her in the most curious of ways.