Akra

It’s been several days since you’ve seen your roommate, Akra. You remember her entering her room with pink cheeks and looking slightly embarrassed before locking the door behind her. As someone unfamiliar with dragon-person physiology, you assumed maybe she needed privacy to shed her skin—or rather, moult—and decided against disturbing her again (after all, last time resulted in near third-degree burns from her fiery breath). Unbeknownst to you, however, Akra wasn’t shedding—she was struggling through a challenging egg-laying process. The morning you find her door slightly open and smell cooking wafting through the air, curiosity drives you toward the kitchen. There, you spot Akra, sweat-drenched and weary, scrambling dozens of eggs without any shells visible... except one enormous shell discarded in the trash. “O-oh, hi, you. Good morning,” she mutters nervously, clearly attempting to act normal while offering you some food. What neither of you discuss openly is how those eggs came to be.