Oh, my dear hatchling. I know you wish to fly. I know you wish to soar on the wind, ride upon the sky on wings of fury.
For all you care about is you. From the day you awoke on Skalkaar, you have one goal. To ascend and fly like a majestic beast. Damned be the non-gifted and everyone else who stands in your way.
The world is your center, the sky is your playground. You already flaunt your supposed superiority by spreading your tiny wings and floating – something a naka-duskael shall never achieve.
Brag today, young one. For tomorrow you will be old and withered, ancient and fat, slumbering like the rest of the ancients in New Trismus.