Alone in the World, Together

The odds that two animals would hatch from the same egg was small, but it wasn’t an impossibility. That was how Callahan and Dullahan hatched: together.

They were fully formed, perfectly healthy except for being smaller than was typical for a utahraptor fresh out of the egg. They were markedly similar in appearance with their grey and black colours with striped limbs - the only differences between them being that Callahan was covered in a downy feather coat, and Dullahan had miniscule, bony nubs in patches along his spine as well as a flash of white on his hands and along his tail.

Their siblings might have looked much the same, but the remaining eggs never hatched, or had otherwise been scavenged by rats, birds, and other small animals that could fit into the craggy area where the nest had been made - and had apparently been abandoned.

Instinct drove the pair of them to stay put. A nest was meant to be a place of safety and security, and even as desecrated as it was, they had no idea that it wasn’t just that. For the first few days and nights, they stayed huddled up against each other. The sun was warm but not intolerable as it shone through the cracks and crags of the nest’s hiding spot. They could migrate to the shade when it grew to be too much. At night, when the sun went down, the moon was their companion, and they huddled together for warmth when the sand- and ash-covered ground cooled down too much to keep them warm.

They didn’t begin to feel the sharp claws of hunger until a week after they had hatched, when the yolk in their stomachs that had nourished them in the egg was finally used up. It wouldn’t be until another day had passed that they peeked their heads out from the shelter that the jagged black rock had provided - Dullahan first, then Callahan. The unhatched eggs were beginning to sweat, and smelled vile even through their shells. They wanted to get away from it, and they needed to find something to eat.

The world was so much bigger than their small home. It was daunting, scary even. Dullahan nudged his sister with his muzzle, reminding Callahan that he was there with her. They weren’t alone as they took their first steps away from the nest and the shelter of the cradle-like stones. They had each other.

They finally got to see all the things that had been making sounds just out of view while they sat huddled together in their broken home. Tiny creatures that looked almost like them were flitting about, jumping between branches of towering trees with clusters of needles for leaves. They could flap their tiny wings and be carried far away in an instant. They sang songs far louder than they looked capable of. Callahan laughed when Dullahan tried to mimic one of the calls. His whistle wasn’t quite the same as the bird’s, but it still eased her discomfort. Insects buzzed and drifted around them lazily as they wandered. Callahan snapped at a few, but the only one she managed to snag was tiny and didn’t fill her up much.

The leaves and grass being rustled by an unseen force was intimidating, and scarier still when Callahan felt it rustle her soft, downy feathers. She fluffed up, Dullahan puffing his chest beside her, but there was nothing to fight. It was even more alarming when the sky suddenly started to turn dark, far before the time that they had learned the warmth of the sun would disappear. And then, just as quickly as the sun disappeared, it came back. A cloud had passed in front of the sun, obscuring it only briefly.

Another was getting ready to pass by, and Callahan and Dullahan both saw it happen this time. It looked like several of Callahan’s down feathers were drifting through the air, but much larger and further away. Dullahan thought that some of them even looked like Callahan - but she argued that they looked more like him. They were too spikey and not fluffy enough to be her. Dullahan pounced at her, determined to ruffle her feathers so that she was just as spikey as he was.

Their roughhousing didn’t last long. The same instinct that had once driven them to stay in the nest was now urging them to move on when their stomachs growled and thirst started to make their mouths dry. Neither of them knew exactly what they were looking for, just that they should go. They were never very far from one another, equal parts cautious of the new things they were encountering and confident enough to take on the world as soon as they decided it wasn’t a threat. What started as a few uncertain steps outside the only home they had ever known was rapidly becoming exciting - a game.

They darted over the sandy, ashen soil. Running, jumping, chasing one another and laughing and bickering. Dullahan squeaked once when Callahan pinched him a bit too hard. The problem became immediately obvious: he didn’t have the minimal protection that her hatchling down provided her with. She’d just be a little more careful.

It wasn’t a problem for very long, though, because the hunger and thirst that had first driven them to move on from their small home was also making them tired. Callahan pointed out a cluster of rocks that they could take shelter in, not too dissimilar from where their nest had been located. Dullahan almost agreed, but he felt his stomach clench and growl again when the faintest breeze stirred up something that smelled amazing.

Callahan paused from climbing into the rocks. She could smell it too. Something fresh, and rich, and something relatively close.

Dullahan teased her, making as though he was going to dart off without her. Callahan, not to be shown up or left behind, jumped down from the rocks and onto Dullahan’s back, scrambling to get ahead of him with her energy revived by just that tantalizing scent. Dullahan quickly followed, hopping up and following after her as they raced off towards the unknown.

It didn’t take long for them to slow down; or skid to a stop, as it were. From the shelter of a large plant frond, Callahan and Dullahan peered out at a much, much larger creature. Dark grey, with black stripes along its back. Something red stood in stark contrast from the skin of its muzzle as it pulled its head back and the twins realised - it was one of them. They were scarcely tall enough to nip at the other utahraptor’s ankles, but it was another utahraptor. Another utahraptor who… turned her head just enough for her pale gaze to lay directly upon them.

Callahan squeaked and darted deeper into the shadows, but Dullahan stayed rooted where he was, cautiously optimistic that she would share rather than try to eat them. Mostly rooted where he was. He crouched down a bit, trying to hide in the shadows despite the splashes of white on his hide clearly giving him away.

She almost looked like them, he thought, being all striped on her limbs and deep grey. Maybe she was their mother.

Layla did not share the sentiment at first. She didn’t want chicks of her own, she just wanted to take care of herself - but these two were so small. They shouldn’t have even been far from their nest yet, yet here they were, stumbling upon her. She sighed after a moment and called to them softly. She could share, if they were hungry.

Neither Dullahan, nor Callahan accepted her invitation for a moment. Dullahan was waiting for his sister, but Callahan just wasn’t sure just yet about the much, much larger utahraptor. Even though the smell of whatever she was eating was very tempting.

Dullahan scurried back further under the frond, nipping at Callahan’s feathers and urging her to go over there with him. She protested, but ultimately relented when her stomach growled again. She approached the edge of the frond with Dullahan by her side, cautious, where she stopped again like staying under it was going to keep her safe.

Layla teased them - she wasn’t going to bite. She had all this food here, and they would hardly even be a mouthful to her.

Callahan tried her best to give Layla a fierce look, which was only ruined slightly when she squeaked in surprise when Dullahan gave her a bump which sent her beyond the edge of the frond’s protective shadow.

She froze, staring up at Layla. Layla stared back with kind eyes. Motherly eyes, shadowed by a sadness that Callahan and Dullahan were too young to understand. She ripped a piece of flesh off and dropped it on the ground by her feet, then nudged it closer to the pair of hatchlings. It really was good, she promised.

Dullahan grabbed a mouthful and ripped at it. It was tough for tiny mouths and even tinier teeth, but well worth it when he managed to pull a scrap off. Callahan sniffed it, feigning disdain. Her downy feathers fluffed in embarrassment when her stomach betrayed her and growled audibly. She tried not to take her eyes off of Layla as she hesitantly started to nip and pull at the chunk of meat - but it was tough, and turned out that it needed her full attention. She growled and shook her head, jaws clenched tightly around the piece of meat she was trying to tear off until it was finally free, and she had her first real bite of food.

The twins ripped into the meat, voracious, as they started to figure out the best ways for their tiny teeth to rip and tear smaller chunks off. Layla watched them, watched over them, with a familiar old ache in her heart. She didn’t want to do this again, not after what had happened the last time, but… these two were so small. They couldn’t take care of themselves, they were too young. They looked like they were barely out of the egg.

When she asked them where their family was, the answer that the twins gave her was simple, yet heartbreaking: they were all that the other had. No parents to provide for them, no older siblings were around to watch over them. Just them, by themselves. That was how it had always been, even for as short a time as "always" was.

Layla watched as Dullahan chirped and pounced on Callahan, who protested and rolled him. With their bellies full, they were getting the energy to play again. No, she didn’t want to take on this role again. She was not going to be responsible for young lives again.

She was content with her life of wandering, thieving, and going wherever her heart took her, there was no room in her life for such small creatures. But… who would take care of them, if she didn’t? There was no one else around, and larger carnivores were more likely to eat them than adopt them, nevermind the risk of them being snapped up by mammals, birds, or even large reptiles.

She sighed quietly and sat back on her haunches while they played, reinvigorated by their meal. Fine. She’d take care of them. At least until they were old enough to hunt for themselves.