The young argonian hesitates before the Tree-Minder's hut. It takes all of his courage to bother such a respected member of the tribe with what is no doubt a foolish question, but it's been nagging him for far too long now, keeping him distracted even when tending his guar, or fishing for food to bring to his egg-mother and egg-brothers. And so, taking a deep breath, he knocks.
"Come in, young one". The Tree-Minder's hut is dark and damp, filled with hanging herbs and dried snake skins, each of them serving purposes too obscure for the uneasy guest to even guess. "Tree-Minder", he says nodding deeply and respectfully, "I erect the spine of apologies."
"And what are you apologizing for, young one? I sense your unease, and that is no reason to feel apologetic."
"I...", his tongue feels dry, "I have questions."
"Then sit, and perhaps I shall be able to make the waters less murky, so that you'll be able to swim on unburdened by doubt."
"It's... you take part to the naming ceremony of each saxhleel in our tribe, right? I was wondering how does each of us get to be named the way he does."
"Ah, it's not the first time I hear such a question. You see, after each hatchling has licked the sap from our Hist, it is my duty to find him a name. Many things can suggest it. The yet-to-be-named hatchling's actions right after drinking the sap tell much about his future, his abilities, his personal talents. Sometimes it can be some significant change in their appearance. Take Stalks-the-Stars, for instance: after licking the tree, he stared at the night sky and chased around the hatching pools as if he was chasing torchbugs. Or Ember-Eyes: the sap has flowed through him, imbuing his eyes, once gray, with its bright orange hue. So you see, it is my duty not to name each of you, but to translate into words what the Hist has in store for you."
The young one sits quietly for a while, contemplating the Tree-Minder's words in silence. After several minutes, he nods and gets back up on his feet.
"I see. I erect the spine of gratitude, Tree-Minder. I hope I haven't wasted too much of your time."
The Tree-Minder smiles kindly.
"You have not. Stay moist, Craps-All-Over."