The past week had been spent rather usefully — Eythan would say so himself — as he fawned over his newborn brother, who had dubbed himself as Auré after babbling uselessly in his first few moments of life. The name, despite being completely made-up to the gryphon, had stuck. It held a certain elegance, even if it was made of compulsive baby gurgles. In the passing days, however, the little wyvern had picked up a little bit of a vocabulary — which was, currently, free of any curse words, thanks to Eythan's efforts to restrain his rather colorful language. Auré picked up a variety of important words ("Bones!" "Eat." "Wing!") and persistently asked for the names of everything new that he encountered. It was cute at first, but it was, frankly, annoying the gryphon now. The little thing would scamper clumsily toward him, clutching a random object that was most likely a bug or some poor lizard, squealing through a full beak for a name.

Fortunately, for Eythan, this was not one of those days. Well, not entirely. Today was a day where he'd take the neonate to the Bone Fortresses for a little bit of fun and exploration. There were oodles of piles of bones to try and balance on, which would be perfect for getting prepared to fly. It was the equivalent of, say, branching in Eridanus. There were some cave rats to worry about, but honestly, the gryphon wasn't afraid of them. He'd stay away from known hotspots of the nasty things. Besides, who wouldn't want to take an infant to a pit of bones to romp around?

The gryphon couldn't help but chortle at the sight of Auré disappearing beneath the not-so-literal waves. Bright little eyes peeked above the pile, and Eythan smiled and gestured toward himself. Sure enough, the dark cotton-ball landed at his feet. "Watch," he murmured, a simple word that the baby was already familiar with. Stepping carefully over his brother, he lightly trotted toward a bone pile, inspecting it briefly and spreading his wings a little.

"Wings," he said as he balanced himself with the limbs. "Watch feet," he added as moved closer to the collection. "Slow." Placing a delicate, measured talon on a study-looking bone, he pulled himself up onto the side of the pile. Then, slowly and gently, he made his way to the peak of the pile, perfectly balanced and without a bone disturbed. "See?"

"Now, you try," he said, unmoving from his spot, gesturing with his tail toward the base of his pile.

Eythan watched with an oddly strong sense of pride surging through his chest as the little wyvern tested each bone experimentally. As time went by, the baby would get much better at climbing up and down things with ease and find himself in all sorts of places. At this rate, Aure was likely going to be able to graduate to gliding far sooner than the hybrid had previously imagined. Maybe he had forgotten how quickly he, himself, had developed? Eythan rather vividly remembered seeking help from his half-sister for advice for flight, since his father hadn't been the most helpful in that time. A little part of him was grateful that he was around to at least give Aure a guiding hand.

Flight was a wonderful, freeing thing. The sensation of wings gliding carelessly but precisely through the air was fantastic, and already, the wyvern could probably become an expert at it by his second cycle of life. Without the added weight of forelegs or the drag of a tail, he could perhaps be even faster than Eythan.

Plus, the other fun thing about flying? Breaking bones open and nibbling out the marrow. Fitting, for a Bone King.

Peering down between his own two legs, Eythan nuzzled the top of Aure's head, agreeing eagerly, "you do!" Then, ever-so-carefully, he turned above the baby, spinning on the bone pile so that he faced a slightly more intact fortress. It was a little shorter than the pile, a perfect grounds for jumping. It was the equivalent of branching, but without the danger of falling from hundreds of feet up and disappearing into the ferns of Eridanus.

"Watch. Jump." Without even a single spread of his wings, the hybrid leapt to the top of the bone fortress, barely even disturbing it. Perching at its peak, he looked down to Aure, calling out, "you do?"

It was, admittedly, hilarious and adorable to watch the little one's awed expression at absolutely anything he did. Eythan could chase his own tail and Aure would scream with delight and attempt to chase his own, albeit much shorter, tail. That would be quite a sight. So, as the gryphon perched atop the tower of bones, he couldn't help but smile and nod encouragingly down toward the hatch-cub. Hatchub? Yeah. "I jump---!"

Ope! There went the little wyvern, springing eagerly across the gap. Already, the instinct to spread his wings was kicking in, as Aure gave himself a tiny bit of lift and clambered into his own little nook of the tower. Well, this would be way easier than Eythan thought. Gliding could just be a day or two away. Perhaps even now. Bobbing his head up and down, he crooned, "very good!" Whapping his tail gently against his perch, he beckoned for the little one to climb up.

Eythan glanced down warmly at his little brother as he clambered the rest of the way up the tower. As Aure whined, the gryphon just laughed and raised a paw to pat him on the head. "You did good! Very good! That was a good jump and a good climb!" Making himself comfortable, he nodded in approval toward the little wyvern, "you can sit all you want. There's plenty of time to keep practicing." When the baby plonked down with an attitude that said I'm going to do this no matter what you say, the gryphon couldn't help but laugh again. Sassy little baby.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head toward Aure and quirked a brow. "Hey, don't go falling asleep, now." Gently prodding a hooked talon at the child's wing, Eythan tilted his head. "Want to learn a little about flying, today? Using your wings?"