Vargas observed, considering. For a brief moment he thought about a possible harness, something to keep the child's torso secured upright; but what was the point? It, like Vargas, had formidable natural weaponry.
But it had the issue--as he'd known it would, from the moment of its hatching--of ungainly shape.
"Another good defense is to kill something before it can hurt you," he informed it drily, turning away again to watch Hydra. "But I knew when you hatched that you might have issues. You have too many legs, and it does not make you faster. And it is hard to use extra legs as weapons. You are too heavy, I think, to ever be a climber, either. But if you are careful, it won't matter. If you'e careful, and stay hidden, you are strong enough to overpower something in an ambush before it can react. Your weight alone is a good advantage--use that. Stealth, and strength, size. Don't try to be faster than something, because I don't think you'll be very agile." He wasn't sure how large the child would grow, but it was bulky, and he was pretty sure it'd be larger than the average creature the caves were now producing.
His mind shifted gears, looking at it through the perspective of army, and he eyed Orthoclase with new thought.
"What your bulk is good for is front-line fighting in a group," he told it. "It is all about training soldiers; and I think your place in combat would be as a powerful shock trooper. Rushing in. Scattering your foes. You would be hard to take down. Even breaking one of your legs would hardly matter, with the extras. You could break the way for others to pour in. It may be wise to form an alliance with something smaller, faster--something that can scout for you, something that can do magic on your behalf."
And Vargas remembered the many hunts he'd had with Nemean, and grinned.