The boy did not notice as the world began to sharpen, grow more vivid at his twin's approach, too absorbed in the chick before him. However he was forced out of the meditation by something tugging on his mane, and his tiny wings flailed out, fanning the air as the force pulled him onto his side, even as his sister fell onto her rump.

A gummy grin broke out on Hawke's face, and he nickered to his sister-dearest, and the boy quickly sat up to make room for Aelin as she laid beside him. He leaned against her, wing to wing and shoulder to shoulder. Her words, broken and stuttering, take him a moment to understand, and even then he is quiet, mulling over the two short words as if she had spouted an entire story.

What was the little pink thing in front of him? He didn't have an answer; never had he seen something like this, so he could not understand it, it was beyond his limited comprehension. So the boy merely shrugged, knowing that would answer his twin's question far better than anything he could piece together and say. Hawke turned and draped his head across Aelin's withers, watching as the newborn creature shuffled over, sand clinging to it's sticky skin, it's chirping pitiful.

So the young prince lifted his head and used a long leg to gently roll the babe closer, cleaning off the child as Sohalia had done him and Aelin. He didn't know if he was doing what he was supposed to, and once he got the chick cleaned he had to turn his head away from Aelin and the newborn, spitting furiously to get the gritty sand and yucky whatever-it-was off his tongue, face wrinkling in disgust.

Maybe that wasn't the wisest idea.

He rubbed his mouth against his leg, gumming at the air, grimacing at the taste. Yuck yeah bad idea. But at least the chick was happy, nestled between Hawke's left leg and Aelin's right, at the crook where their shoulders met. It was out of the wind and warm, and the boy smiled as he felt the babe's contentment as his own. So he returned to draping his head and neck over Aelin's shoulders, letting out a soft sigh.

"Happy." It was all that needed to be said. He was happy with the little being that somehow was him-yet-not-him, happy with his twin by his side, happy with the world being so comfortable to live in.

Happy was perfect.