make sure it's solid ground

They did do better with theirs, in the end.

It wasn’t the following spring, but the one after, when they finally got around to it. Each year had been going better than the last, and the herd had only lost three clutches so far this year, one of which being to an unavoidable incident involving an adult Hardstep, and Laidir was pleased to note that the familiar hunch of tension in Tus’s shoulders had lessened significantly as they got closer to hatching time. She never thought it was fair, the way she took everything on herself. They had all been launched from one paradigm to another, and none were more knowledgeable in the way of things than another. 

She returned to their nest with her spoils of the day, a juvenile coldcrest who had wandered too close while she lay in wait for larger prey. There was no hunger at this time of year, and though she’d noticed a distinct lack of bloodeater on bloodeater predation, she and the herd had no such compunctions as the rest of the island seemed to. Food was food, and even in its plentiful state, she would not turn her nose up at an easy meal. There were many holdovers the Light had released them from, but this was not one of them.

Iogair was on the nest as she approached, curled around the clutch protectively, and he looked up eagerly as she approached, a dull rumble bubbling up in his throat.

“Hi,” he said, clearly pleased by her return. “Welcome back.”

She dropped the carcass beside the nest and turned to his face, rubbing her nose along the length of his jaw in greeting. He smelled like he had for the last couple of moon cycles- like dry bracken, something earthy and mineral, and like them. Himself, Tus, and Laidir.

It relaxed her instantly from whatever wariness she had retained from her expedition, and sat down beside him on the flank turned towards the eggs, so they were between the wall of her body and his. She dragged the carcass closer, then set about tearing it to pieces for the three of them as he watched, content to wait for her to deliver his portion.

“Where’s Tus?” She asked between her efforts. She felt his tail flick happily as the mention of their mate, and once again wondered at how far they’d all come.

“Doing the rounds of the herd again,” he said. “She said she’ll take the next shift.”

“Mm,” said Laidir, mouth full as she tore at the carcass, before finishing and shoving a pile closer to him. “Here you go. Hey, if you want, we can go stretch your legs when she gets back.”

She knew it had been a while since he’d strayed far from the nest, except for brief trips for water. It wasn’t for lack of trying- she and Tus made sure he got whatever time off the nest he desired, and tried their best to push him to spend more time away- to take walks, to hunt for himself, or just to break from the monotony, but he seemed to like it. She had to admit, he’d taken to the job better than she or Tus had. Not that they didn’t like protecting their clutch, they did, and at night there were all three of them, curled around their precious future, but Iogair loved watching them. He was ever so careful, patiently nudging them occasionally to ensure they weren’t chilling in the night, bringing fresh bedding to cover them, waking at the sound of a leaf falling in case it might be something coming to make an easy, unmoving meal of their eggs.

He loved it, but because they loved him, they thought that he should really be spending a bit more time away.

It only worked occasionally.

But he’d been on the nest for a full three days this time, and with Tus returning to watch soon, he had no excuse.

“Alright,” he said, with no small amount of begrudgement. “Only for a bit though.”

“We’ll see,” she snorted. 

It took a little while for Tus to reappear, but when she did she touched her nose to each of theirs, in the careful, considered way she tended to, before moving to jockey Iogair into moving. Clearly, she and Laidir were on the same page on the issue.

“You’ll take him on a good long one, right?” she asked Laidir a moment later, Iogair standing with a grumble, making sure the eggs were sufficiently covered for the scant gap between his warmth and Tus’.

“I’ll bring him back just before dark,” Laidir decided, and Tus chuffed her approval. Iogair slunk up to her, butting his horns against their shoulders, one after another.

“You're talking about me again?” he said, more a statement than a question. They had made him more than aware of their thoughts on the matter, and he did agree, even if he resisted significantly.

“Sure thing,” Laidir said. “Come along.”

He followed, and she led them out of the forest, onto the plains that it edged onto. Once free of the trees she nudged him, lightly. 

“Lets run,” she said, and it only took a minute for him to agree. 

After a brisk jog, one she doubled as a scouting mission for any potential threats- not much would threaten the herd, but you never knew- she let the pace slow down to a stroll, and paused to let Iogair catch up. 

“This doesn’t feel fair,” he joked. “You just wanted to prove you’re the fastest again.”

“I don’t need to prove that,” she sniffed in a faux affectation. “Everyone already knows it.”

He just laughed, and she grinned along with him.

They spent a while just wandering, and she let him have free reign of exploring their surroundings as the light began to sink on the horizon. Eventually they turned themselves towards home, and started the walk back.

Before they headed back to the trees, she stopped him, pulling up short to push her forehead against his.

“Hey,” she said, making sure he was listening. “I’m proud of you. I’m proud of us.”

He just leaned on her, a pleased purr rattling his chest.

Their nest started hatching in the evening, a week later. There had been several nests that had gone in the last sunrise or so, and the herd was abuzz, the trees echoing with the calls of the new-hatched, plaintively calling for food or comfort, their parents rushing to coddle them.

Laidir, Iogair and Tus were oblivious to it all, hunched over their own nest, watching the shells rock and crack. The event moved swiftly, and soon there were three tiny little creatures in the nest, their soft, damp noses turned up towards their parents, their life-giver-nest-watchers, who cooed and leaned closer. Laidir turned aside for a moment to snag their first meal closer- a rabbit she’d scared half to death earlier in the day and had saved, just it case. Quick nips tore strips of the appropriate size from its body, and then were offered to the hatchlings, who fell upon it with a vigor rarely seen in the world Before.

She leaned on Iogair, tail reaching across his body to touch to Tus, and sighed deeply, happily.

They had succeeded- with this, at least. 

Whatever came next, they would find out, together.