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?

As soon as talons met the earth and Eythan set his brother down, Auré clambered eagerly toward the highest pile of bones, jumping full-force into it. Gravity and physics would not have it, and like a pile of bowling pins, the age-old bone pile disintegrated into the rest of the pit with a clattering uproar. With a surprised squawk, the child fell through and vanished underneath the "bones, Tanny!" Dust went in his mouth and he couldn't help but to cough and give off an incredibly loud sneeze.

Steadying himself on a large femur with his itty bitty wing claws, the baby pushed up and managed to wiggle his dark head out of the pile, bright red eyes scanning for "Tanny" among the shifting dust. "Hello!" Auré crowed eagerly, puffing up his short, undeveloped mane in his enthusiasm. As soon as he caught sight of spots and white, he scrambled further against the bones, throwing his tiny self out of the bone pile at between Eythan's feet.

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.

Auré'd be lying — a concept he wasn't aware of, yet — if he said he wasn't absolutely astounded by the ease which his big brother clambered onto the bones and balanced atop them with not a single sound (that he could hear, anyways.) "See," he affirmed softly, eagerly. It was a little statement of agreement and approval, somehow, as he nodded eagerly. The smile on his face faded a little, though, as he began to contemplate just how he would get up that mountain of bones without disturbing any of them and buying himself and Tanny. The wyvern stuck his tongue out in thought, ears flicking to and fro as he fiercely inspected the pile.

Then, with one dramatic little foot, the baby stepped forth and plonked it onto a firm-looking bone. It held as he experimentally tested his weight against it, so he hoisted his other foot up another bone. "Watch!" The eager little chirp slipped from his beak, a little improper (it really should be "look!" but Eythan would give him the benefit of the doubt.) Auré pressed on, carefully testing each bone with his wing before he clambered onto it. Each little step brought him to flap his wings a little frantically, but that was okay, because he was going!

Finally, after the long, treacherous climb, the wyvern crowed victoriously as he scampered between Tanny's legs. "I do!"

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?"

Aure preened at the praise, as he always did, chirping with a violent eagerness as he poked at the bottom of Tanny's beak with his own. He fell quiet as his big brother began to turn on the spot, though, nestling up in his own little wings. Then, with wide, bright, astounded eyes, the little wyvern watched as Tanny oh-so-casually sprung from the bone pile and onto a slightly shorter tower of bones. "Jump!" Aure parroted in awed glee, flapping his wings with enthusiasm.

Before his brother had even asked him to imitate, Aure was already standing and perching at the very edge of the bone pile, preparing to jump with all of his might across the admittedly minute gap. Wiggling his little haunches, he sprung like a cat would toward the bones. About midway through the maneuver, he began to stretch his wings out and flap them frantically for some semblance of lift. He was met with moderate success as his wing-claws met bone and he found a grip. Scrabbling up the pile, Aure perked his ears up and cackled in glee. "I 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.

Aure bobbed his head up and down in response, leaning half-way out of the bone tower so that he could stare up at his brother. With a eager wave of his tail, he happily spun on the spot. Gripping at the shelf of bones above him with his wing-claws, the little wyvern clambered up another level of the tower. Then, another.

It was a long and arduous climb for the little one, and his feathers were all puffed up and he was panting by the time he made it to the top. "Big climb," he whined, leaning on Tanny for support. "Sit?" Tucking his wings against himself, Aure sat down regardless of what his brother said. He needed to rest, so much! So badly.

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?"

As always, Aure preened at the compliments and praise, leaning further into Tanny's flank. The companionable silence gave him an opportunity to nearly doze off; already, the little wyvern was exhausted and wanted to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, his big brother's voice jarred him awake with a surprised --- and upset --- squeal. "I tired! Need sleep!" He half-barked, half-whined, indignantly flapping his wings against the spotted hybrid's hip. But, dang it, he was already bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It'd be a solid few minutes until he could doze back off.

Stretching his wings out and yawning rather angrily, the baby peered up at Tanny. "I fly today?" he questioned, and paused to answer it, "... no. I tired. I want fly good first." Aure wanted his first flight (or, rather, glide) to be beautiful and not driven by a sleep-deprived infant. It had to be majestic and well-controlled! Perfect! Glorious! To be quite honest, he simply feared falling asleep mid-flight, as impossible as it was. "I just jump. I do." Already fixing his eyes on another bone pile, he prepared to jump down to it, unaware that he was doing exactly what Eythan had intended for him to do.

And, already, he had sprung from the tower, spreading out his wings for shaky balance. Landing in a crumpled heap atop some bone towers, he chirped back toward Tanny, "I jump! With wing!"