Hunter had been meticulously counting the days. He was nervous-- as most new parents probably were, right?-- to meet this new gembound, one made from his magic. Would they look like him? Would they have his temperament? Would they like their home, and the life that was pre-determined for them? (And if not, would he know? Could he save them from his mistakes, if he had made them?)

Would they like him?

He wanted to have all the answers right away, but he knew he wouldn't. The kid would need time to come into their own... But he wanted, so badly, to make sure that the first few moments of his life knew love-- specifically, love from his mom, y'know?

It was only halfway through Pegasus that he remembered that he had forgotten to get some jerky, and one of the blankets he had set aside, for the kid. It was the difference between being late and on time, and he was not going to miss the hatching. He could bring them later, he rationalized... maybe the kid wouldn't be hungry. Or maybe the Sentinel already had that covered? He could teach the kid how to hunt, anyway, and if the kid was cold, he could always snuggle them.

But he was NOT going to be late, so unfortunately, there he was: hurrying down the tunnel, eyes bright and gleaming. "Sentinel!" He called. "I haven't miss it, have I?" He was nice and early, but did they sometimes hatch early? He knew they could hatch late-- his stomach dropped. What if the child wasn't ready yet? Anxiety fluttered in his stomach like butterflies as his eyes landed on the stone-- so much larger than it had originally been.

"Is this it?" He asked, almost more to himself than anything, reaching out a furry hand to place against the glistening oil-streaked onyx.

@The Sentinel @V-Onyx-Three (soon :tm:)

He had returned today from Pegasus--the child still settled on his hip, sleeping now against his armor. The scrap of cloth he'd begged from the palace was nothing special--little more than a strip of old brown bedsheet or the like, but wrapped around Onyx-Two, it proved at least to warm him.

Then the Sentinel--after setting the child in so that he could hunt for them--had taken down a small cave deer, sharing it between them. The boy was... soft. Small. So much so that now, as he approached the distant voice with swift, purposeful steps, he clutched him almost unconsciously closer with a protective urge.

"Here," was his rasping call, a bark of response. He came in sight of Hunter moments later: nearing the chrysalis, touching it just as the Sentinel had touched them before. He'd leaned on them--each stone, leaning in to try and see past the Onyx, the Selenite farther down (which had not, for whatever reason, yet hatched). The last time he'd retracted it, he'd found a pale and pudgy hand where his had been, and Onyx-Two had hatched.

He came to stand alongside Hunter, studying him briefly as he did so, offering a nod. He then turned to show the other child at his hip. "There are... three. I had planned one, but..." He paused, staring, unblinking. Considering his words. "I am not... displeased. With my decision." For whatever reason, his speech patterns had shifted for the time being--but as he looked down at the boy at his hip (near-asleep against his black armor) he hesitated. Drew him closer, eyed Hunter. "It will be strong when it has grown," he swiftly assured, head rising a notch, as if he felt the need to defend the cloth-swathed toddler that he held.

He looked to the other Onyx, then, and back to Hunter. He went on with a briefly stammered attempt at politeness. "Is it... Does it require food, or drink? The Sentinel has left a leg of deer just beyond the tunnel." Admittedly, Hunter--living in a palace, and wearing clothes--was probably not the 'raw meat' sort. But that did not occur to him.

Onyx-Two had eaten, drank the sweet clear water of Pegasus, and--swathed in clean but tattered cloth--quickly fallen fast asleep. Tousled black hair clung, sweaty, to pallid forehead; the cloth bulged where fledgling wings lay against his back.

The sound of voices stirred him, pale eyes opening, blinking. A child's gaze found Hunter, followed by a large, tiny-fanged yawn. Onyx-Two had the exhausted look of half-asleep toddlers the universe over: baggy-eyed, drooping, struggling to stay awake. "Hi," he said softly, leaning his head against the Sentinel's armor. One tiny hand pulled free to offer a childish wave at Hunter: the fingers opening and closing, instead of swaying side-to-side.

His eyelids drifted near-closed again, and he watched, gaze shifting wearily to the gemstone chrysalis--so like his own--that seemed the center of their attention.

The chrysalis lay at the intersection of two worlds. One end of the tunnel opened to light, blooming flowers, the gentle caress of grass. The other widened out to a place that had a much more sinister atmosphere. Strange, and ominous. A recent addition to the tunnel, in the grand scheme of things, had been the introduction of an onyx chrysalis. Though it had started out small, it had slowly grown to hold a gembound the size of a cat as the days passed.

There was no concept of time, of the idea that there were gembounds outside waiting for them to emerge. They could choose not to if they so wished. It was not completely unheard of for chrysalises to hatch late. But the noises from beyond crystal walls startled them awake. Something within their consciousness told them that it was time. It was a gentle tap at first. Barely audible to anyone who wasn't listening closely or hard of hearing. They were not so inherently reckless as to lash out against the chrysalis right away. Another tap, the sound of claw on stone. It didn't break away.

They became aware now, of another sense. Sight. But this was not very helpful considering how dark the onyx was. They couldn't quite see out of it, but saw that there was no other way to escape other than to break the chrysalis. Instinctively, they understood that their legs were to be used for this action. They thrust outwards, paws pressing against the oiled stone, but the only thing that came out of it was a loud and audible 'thump'. Failed attempt.

Though their sight was much obscured, the pause in their struggle made them notice that there was something different about the colors they saw. Some parts of the onyx were darker. Not that the stone itself was darker- they didn't know how they understood this, but they realized that it was because someone was out there. Or more than one someone? It was the shadows of their hands. Hunter's and the Sentinel's. In the few moments of silence as they waited to recover their strength for another attempt, they reached out to place their own hands- different from the paws on their hind legs, to meet the shadows. They were much bigger than their own, but a reassuring rather than dangerous presence.

@Hunter

The Sentinel wasn't far away to no one's surprise. Hunter's lips tugged up to grin in a way that didn't quite match his longer snout as he looked up to meet the Sentinel's gaze. What was a surprise was the toddler that the Sentinel had with him: small and pale with fledgling wings and a crop of dark hair, the young boy was absolutely adorable.

"Hey," Hunter beamed, raising his free hand to mimic the child's gesture: fingers flexing and closing. "Aren't you precious?" He cooed, before his eyes flicked back up to the Sentinel. "He looks like my half-sister, Angela," he remarked, fascinated and immediately in love with the small bundle of joy.

The offer of deer leg offered him some relief. At least if his kiddo was hungry after hatching, they wouldn't have to scramble to make something (or hope that they would like sparkly banana). "I'm alright," he nodded anyway, "Thanks." Despite growing up around quote-unquote "more civilized folk", Hunter was still a primarily-meat-eating mustelid, and he wasn't going to look a gift deer-leg in the... mouth? Anyway.

There was a thump from the stone that Hunter was crouched by, and his attention immediately returned to it.

"Oh," he breathed, trying to peer through the dark stone. "Here they come," he murmured, enraptured. "You can do it, little one. We're right here."

@The Sentinel (V-Onyx-Two), @V-Onyx-Three

He was silent, listening, staring at Hunter--thinking over the child, conversation and response. But then--the thump.

The Sentinel's gaze snapped to the other Onyx, and he stepped swiftly forward (never shifting Onyx-Two's balance at his hip), kneeling carefully before the stone. He left enough space for Hunter; he did not monopolize this hatching. But he did set his halberd down and reach out with his now-free hand, pressing palm to stone.

"It must fight," he informed the stone, loudly. "Kick, claw, and break free." Then he leaned back, pulling his hand away. If the child needed help in hatching--as Onyx-Two had--he would do so. But he'd give this one a moment, first. There was not the frantic nature to the fighting, yet--no urgency to this birth.

"Ang'la," he parroted, voice soft--then twisted away with sudden, inexplicable shyness, hiding his tired face against the Sentinel's armor. Another yawn could be heard behind the cloth--and he stayed that way, quiet, right up until he felt his stonegiver suddenly kneel.

He turned back toward the stone, blinking, and stared at it--and the unfamiliar new sensation of empathy stirred him. He remembered hatching-! He'd done it only earlier that day, and he remembered how scary it had been, to be trapped like that.

Onyx-Two tried to reach for his magic, an instinct to help rising in him, but nothing-... Frustrated, worried, he leaned out abruptly (nearly tipping over) to reach a stubby little hand for the chrysalis. He couldn't get to it--his arm was too short--but he grabbed toward it nonetheless.

@V-Onyx-Three

Their still floppy ears caught the faint noise of speech. One was softer, reassuring, while the other was firm, yet supportive. Hatching was the first test a new gembound had to face, and even though they failed the first time, they would try again. And again. As many times as was needed to break free. It was a good test of ones strength and determination in a way. There was someone waiting for them on the other side. Someones.

A surge of energy coursed through them. And they kicked, legs and arms both pushing outwards, though young muscles not developed enough to make this an easy task. But this time they didn't stop to take a break. They didn't consider failure as an option. A crack here, a crack there. These spread throughout the chrysalis, widening with every thump and scratch. Until finally, finally, the onyx could hold it together no longer. It shattered all at once, leaving oil touched shards scattered around the gembound.

They gasped, taking in the air. Air. The gas filled their lungs, and they breathed, relishing the strange sensation of life. Multicolored eyes blinked. The sudden transition from darkness to a pouring in of light was hard on their eyesight. The blurred shapes surrounding them slowly focused into figures, and their head turned as their four eyes all locked onto each gembound, one at a time. They suddenly felt very small. Exposed. Vulnerable. But- curious. Their muzzle opened, as if to say something. Say what? Who? Why? They sneezed. Blinked. Stared, gaze drifting from parent to child to parent.

@Hunter

Hunter nodded at the Sentinel's words, but despite the breath he held, he did not hold a single shred of doubt in his chest. You can do it, he thought softly, fingers gently tracing the cracks that were forming on the stone.

And then, with a sudden burst-- Hunter flinched, withdrawing his hand as the child was born. As his eyes opened again, however, his eyes fell upon the babe: small, jet-black like their father, yet thick with fuzzy fur just like Hunter. Their eyes shimmered with color, rising up to meet Hunter's own, then looking to the others with an open curiosity.

"Welcome, little one," he spoke softly, reaching out a hand to gently invite them into the comforting warmth of his arms. "It's alright." There was so much more Hunter wanted to say, but his gaze drifted toward the Sentinel.

This was his child, first and foremost: a child of the Forge. He expected... Well, he didn't know what exactly to expect, but he had an impression that he had to leave space for the Sentinel to explain the world to them.

But right now, at least, he could offer his company, and be there for his kid. These first few moments were precious, and he was so glad that he was there for each and every second of them.

@The Sentinel (V-Onyx-Two) @V-Onyx-Three

The Sentinel, for his part, made no motion to claim the child in Hunter's stead; nor did he ignore it. Instead he waited, observing the hatching with held breath: and when at last they'd spilled past broken gem and into the world, he lowered himself again to a knee.

One hand reached out--not to make the child choose between himself and Hunter, no. But it aimed to gently trace and cup the child's cheek and jaw in an almost affectionate manner. Then he withdrew, albeit almost reluctantly. "It is good," he said, looping that arm over his bent knee.

The other child stayed on one hip, his other arm holding them carefully upright--neither neglected, and this one only welcomed, as yet. "It will be called V-Onyx-Three. And we," he added, with a glance at Hunter, "are your parents."

Whether they would understand was not the point; but the knowledge was now there for them.