A mother should be gentle, loving, caring, and gracious toward her children. She is the role model and teacher at home, and that was especially true for dragons. While the father would spend most of the time out hunting, the mother is the one who spends the most time with the eggs and wyrmlings.
Violet was no exception to that, even though she preferred a more distant approach to parenting, giving her two sons the bare minimum care and knowledge before letting them be forged in the furnace of life. Since dragons grow in power only when faced by the harshness of life, keeping the wyrmlings too protected would stunt their growth.
But she was still probably a bit too harsh, even by a dragon's standards.
Faster than anyone could see, and with power enough to crack mountains, Violet's fist shattered the fabric of space as it rushed forward, burned the air, and smacked right into Arad's upper abdomen, twisting his body like a piece of paper.
