This other child--though indeed a child--bore similarities to his parents. And, too, to those few Forge he'd seen. That was--fur, spines, wicked claws. His own claws were present, of course, if yet small and dull, but Onyx Two noted these differences in an absent, faintly worried sort of way. Why was he furless, soft, and unarmored-? It was strange--was he different..?

But that was a fleeting thought, for now. He mostly watched, rapt, as there was first a hatchling and then a sibling--and he, unlike The Sentinel, did reach for Onyx-Three in a way that might make his new sibling choose. It was a lean out, so that he might have fallen from the Sentinel's hip if his vigilant father had not caught him--and a hand, reached out, fingers splayed, for Onyx-Three.

"Three," he half-murmured, half-whispered. "Am Two."

Tiny face squinted up in--was that horror? Confusion? Amused disgust? Either way his features twisted, hand recoiling as his sibling licked it like a puppy. He made an incoherent sound, sort of a "Bargle," maybe of protest.

Silver eyes picked out Hunter, and he listened to the relatively long sentences--words that were new to him, yet somehow half-remembered. He could make some meaning of it. Not entire, not complete, but enough that he understood the gist: they were family and would be together.

He looked down. His hand was still wet. With another grimace he shook his baby-fat arm determinedly, trying to get rid of the icky puppy-licked feeling. "Now?" he asked softly, at last, eyes cutting back up to first one parent, then the other. "Go now?"