I was beaten out of the shell, my instincts screamed. Of course, they didn't say those words, nor did I think them. I got vague, barely recognizable concepts and innate images. They made me angry. I went berserk, smashing and straining to get out. I wanted out. I wanted out. I WANTED OUT!!!!

Suddenly the shell of the egg around me cracked and I tumbled out, a little surprised. Light hit my eyes with the pain of a brand, and real air rushed into my lungs, searing. My own muzzle filled my eyes, red as the blood I would come to enjoy. Then I saw my sister. She had beaten me out of the egg. Somehow I was as big as she was despite her obvious advantage. ~ What this...... red........ hunger........ sister...... hunger..... blood? ~ So I called myself Blood Sister. I knew blood, somehow. It was inside me, part of me. I wanted it. My sister snapped at me, hissing. I snarled back, struggling to gain my feet. Instead I tumbled out of my nest and lay there, crying from the fear of being exposed. Suddenly a huge red blotch filled my vision. My nose searched for the familiar scent of my mother. I had smelled her almost constantly for weeks upon weeks, and she was a comfort. It was not the Mother, but a strange, almost the Mother. Like the Mother, but different. ~ Half of my smell, half Sister's smell, not The Mother's smell. Father? ~ And it was. He gently nudged me back to the safety of the nest, where I was contented to stay for the next couple of days as I gained my strength.

The first few days were a blur, and I was as comfortable as could be expected. My sister was my friend, unless there was food involved. The first time our parents brought us regurgitated food, I was more than ravenous. My sister and I snarled and fought over every last scrap, eating until we were full and then just stuffing ourselves. Soon afterwards, the other two eggs in our nest began shaking and we heard strange squeaking and scratching noises. I gently sniffed one, and then nudged it with my nose, and my sister did the same to the other. Suddenly, from under my snout, and single tiny claw broke out of the shell. Squealing in alarm, my sister and I leapt back from the eggs. Quickly enough, two identical males tumbled out of the shells at almost exactly the same time. Looking up at us, I got the impression of a wrinkled brown lump with red splotches and yellow eyes blinking widely. I reached out an authoritative claw and nudged the one closest to me sharply, searching for a reaction. It promptly fell over and began crying, badly frightened. Sister leapt towards it and began snuffling the fallen heap of crumpled reddish-brown leather, crooning under her breath. I looked at her curiously, not understanding why she found it necessary to console the little creature. The other chick struggled silently to push itself up, but it was still so weak it could barely lift its head. When it found it could not stand, it opened its mouth to cry. I was amazed and surprised to see that no sound came out when it did so. The Mother came over immediately and sniffed curiously at the soundless male, and then apparently decided that it was all right. From that day forward, I always thought of my siblings as Silent, Sister, and the other, gentle male, Tame.