His first of many little voyages from the side of Sohalia was, so far, utterly uneventful, and the boy could not be happier with it.

Stumbling across the sands the child paid the sun no mind; he had the luck of his birth being within early autumn, as the sun's heat wavered before the coolness of winter. Under the sun's touch he remained as a normal child, the wraith-like form locked away by the light. Dark legs carried a pale body across the sand, his small wings hanging limp at his sides, the chick-fluff ruffling in the gentle breeze that gusted across the dunes.

He took in his surroundings in wonder, pausing at the crest of a dune to gaze at the world around him. The sun was low, having just risen from it's slumber 'ere the boy set out from his dam's side. The bright light hurt his developing eyes, so he avoided looking at the sun and instead cast his gaze down to the ground.

It was there he saw it; a shell gleaming brilliant white, half-buried in the sand stirred by the wind. Hawke dropped his head, sniffing at the strange object before he lightly tapped the surface with the tip of a soft hoof. To his surprise and delight, something tapped back, and the boy sprang away from the object with a sharp whinny, tossing his head before staring intently at it, his attention captured completely.

Once more he approached, tapping the shell gingerly and laughing when something tapped back. Little to the boy's knowledge what he considered a game was in fact a struggle for life. The creature within the shell could not breathe, the sand blocking most of the porous holes in it's shell, cutting off oxygen. Yet with each tap from the colt, the shell weakened, until the babe within surged, using the remainder of it's energy to smash open the shell. It was free.

Hawke stared, dumbfounded as a fat, almost-naked thing rolled out of the object in an explosion of shards, his hoof raised to tap upon the shell surface that no longer existed. The blob raised what could only be it's head, a peep coming from it that stirred something in the boy's heart, something borderline painful. Gingerly the child set his foot down, careful not to squish the pink thing. Eyes the color of night met those of the sea, and it was as if the earth fell out from under Hawke's feet.

He could feel the child within his own infantile mind, the two newborns reaching for each other through a bond already solid as iron, stronger even than that of the boy and his dam, stronger even than that between his twin and himself. Hawke fell to his knees, then his belly, laying his head down on the earth, feeling the other child's fluff tickle his muzzle. The pair merely stared at each other, no words spoken for the elder was not capable of eloquent words apt enough to describe what was going on, the younger not capable of it at all, and the silence did not need to be broken by petty sounds that would shatter the wonder flowing between them.

Ignoring the world around them, the colt and the owl merely watched each other, exploring each other's strange yet familiar minds with all the sweet clumsiness of childhood.

"Speech."

OOC: @[Aelin] first please, then anyone else may join :) This is Hades's finding/hatching thread!

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.