A character finds an odd-looking egg in the forest. When they take it home, they never could have predicted what was inside it. 

Annabeth walked through the arch-way feeling scared. The arch that stood above me was clearly old, with cracks stretching the full way around. Vines grew around it, creeping upwards. The flowers on the vine were of two colours. A warm golden, almost sun-like colour, and deep purple, almost black. The colours contrasted so violently, that Annabeth almost laughed. The arch itself was a pale cream colour, not yellow, but not white. She had walked through this arch with her mother several times before, but never alone. Her village needed her now more than ever, and yet, here she stood. Her once proud and mighty village was now reduced to no more than a pile of cinders. Annabeth shook her head, clearing it of the sad thoughts. She looked at the arch once more, before disappearing into the forest.