Over the next week, Ocean dutifully watched the egg and did her best to incubate it. Unfortunately, Anya never bothered to do her own research on dragons. She never realized that, as a juvenile, Ocean had not yet developed the helpful motherly instincts for nesting, nor was she big enough to curl around the egg properly.
More importantly, at a mere fourteen years of age, Ocean was little more than a hatchling herself. Had she been born a dragon, she would still be living with her dragon mother. As such, her body's instincts craved a mother's company. Bereft of such company, she automatically released pheromones of distress to call her mother to her side.
Of course, no such mother existed, but any dragoness with maternal inclinations would detect the scent and respond. Over time, the cloud of pheromones spread out wider and wider until it practically broadcasted Ocean's presence to the whole region.
Thus, one morning, Ocean woke up at the sound of a voice. "Oh my, you poor things!"