There was pressure beneath, and closed sounds. The actions woke T'r'ar'ei immediately. The great mother Griffin rose quickly from her nest and stepped aside to watch.
Her eggs! They were hatching! An excitement filled her as the two tan-speckled eggs began to shudder with earnest.
"K'raat!" she called him awake with her excitement. He'd been dozing near the ledge but hurried over to watch with her as their two eggs, their two children, hatched.
The one with the smaller-sized speckling rolled a bit and twisted about until it was nearly over the side of the nest. K'raat put out a paw to steady the mobile thing. T'r'ar'ei kept an eye on the other. It did not move about, the other egg, and twitched only occasionally. Her attention shifted to the more active egg when it rolled back to the center of the nest, knocking against the twitcher. Ah! There was a hole in the mover. The hatchling's wet beak poked through, pushing more shell away. A little white-toed paw pushed out a larger piece, revealing a brownish leg. The anxious parents held their breath in anticipation. The new child squeaked a little noise, which both adults answered, before it gave a final push, creating two halves of the shell as it rolled out. It squeaked another chirp, a child's call, and T'r'ar'ei stepped back into the nest, to warm and dry her new daughter.
But the second egg still only twitched. Not a hole anywhere. Concerned, T'r'ar'ei tapped it oh-so-gently with her beak. A little squeak answered their listening ears. Well, if the child was coming, why didn't it break out? Ah, there! A little beak pushed out from the top, causing a small hole. The egg suddenly shifted, sliding horizontal, their view of the hole gone for it was to the other end. Both parents wished the best possible view of their children's hatching but before K'raat or T'r'ar'ei could turn the egg back, it split right down the center, revealing the child within. Both adult Griffins peered down inside. What they saw shocked them both. The two ends were still hidden within the two halves of shell but its back was exposed. And the child was pure white, except for its little wing starts. They were fluffed in dark! Though wet, it looked to be brown. Brown??! The new parents exchanged questioning looks. The child was backwards! The main feathers of an Imperial Griffin were never anything but white or whitish. And the little one's body was white, the purest either had seen, reminding them of snow.
The child gave a little squeak, instinctively asking where its parents were. K'raat recovered from his shock first and answered. To see the rest of his strange little one and help it out, K'raat pushed the two halves farther apart.
Like its wings, the strange hatchling had a dark head, and paws. Its belly was a bright yellow. The tail, too. The child moved about slowly, asking again for an adult. T'r'ar'ei answered. K'raat picked the child up by his scruff and deposited him by his sister at his mother's side.
Despite the second one's appearance, K'raat could not help but swell with pride. He had a son, and a daughter. T'r'ar'ei was also beaming. They were a family.
"He's a backward!" exclaimed one of their visitors as yet more Imperial Griffins were sighted flying in to land on their already-full ledge. The first ones came to see the new family but it was the little strange one that centered in interest and gossip. And many more onlookers followed. "Just look at the thing!"
K'raat glared warningly at the Griffin but she didn't see it.
"Go away." T'r'ar'ei interjected bluntly and sat in front of everyone's view, the two children protected from sight by her back as they were placed in the space against her fur between her front paws.
"Yes; go." K'raat ordered, moving beside his mate, ready for opposition. There had been enough gawking.
With such a threat, the onlookers began to depart, but several comments caught his ears.
"That's not any child of an Imperial Griffin."
"The poor thing's mixed up. Hope his head's okay."
"One might wonder about the parents of such a creature."
T'r'ar'ei bristled, shocked at the comments she, too, heard, but K'raat told her to settle with a huff.
"No more are to come here today." he added to the last leaving.
The two little ones began their cries for food just after their ledge was emptied of gawkers and nearly settled.
"Stay. I will bring back enough for all." And the new father left for the Great Lake. He caught many fish and started his return, trying not to think about his child's strangeness. Upon returning, he received yet another shock. T'r'ar'ei was not laying with the little ones but standing as a lone visitor looked them over. K'raat recognized the old Griffin instantly. He was Leader and K'raat's father.
Landing as lightly as one could with food in claw, K'raat set the fish aside and approached with a tentative step.
"Father?" He was being very quiet. K'raat had to know what he was thinking.
The grey Leader turned slowly to his son. "What are you going to do about this?"
"What do you mean, Father?"
"I mean," and he spoke stronger. "What are you going to do about this." To punctuate his words, the old one tapped the strange child. It was not rough but enough to push the new hatchling off balance and over. The little one let out a cry in response and, ignoring Leader's authority, T'r'ar'ei picked up both children and moved them away from him.
"I know you and T'r'ar'ei are of true blood so it must be magic, or your second egg was replaced by one which hatched out that little creature."
"My egg was not taken. We never left the nest alone. He is from us." T'r'ar'ei defended.
"No matter. I would kill it if I were you. I doubt it can really think for itself."
"There is no way to know that." T'r'ar'ei could not keep silent. "And he is an Imperial Griffin, merely strangely colored. I won't let anyone hurt him."
"We shall see." the old Leader started for the edge. "I have seen enough." And he jumped out and away.
K'raat stood watching after him for a long moment, then looked to the ground.
"Could he… could he really have the authority to kill our son?" his love asked, the fear she'd held back before now flooding the question.
He could not look at her, so great was his shame and doubt. "I do not know."
