A lone egg near the lake shore. That was what would be seen that day. Sun high over head exposed a single egg surrounded buy up turned dirt qnd eggs eaten by a predator. Luck be on the tiny gharials side. Or, maybe not. Time would tell how lucky the tiny reptile would be. The young thing chirping under cracked shell. Pushing with all it had. Legs, snout, and even tail. He stretched until 'pop' the smallest of reptile babies. Or, at least in the area. Tired, he would lay in the shattered shells around him. Simply to tired to move, but needing to. He was young. Seconds old. Yet, he was already behind what his kind should be. Five inches of chirping baby gharial simply wanting his long gone mother.