Warakk could not believe he was doing this.

He paced another lap between the nest and the big rock, keeping his eyes fixed on the dust before his feet. He couldn't count his steps, but he sounded out the beat of them in his head as he trudged back and forth again, and again, and again. Finally, when he judged it had been long enough, he lifted his head and sounded one clear, albeit squeaky, "Wark!"

Muffled giggles immediately rose from a stand of greens not far away. Warakk sighed and began to trot in that direction while Motherhen watched over them all from her rocky perch above the nest.

As Warakk drew nearer the greens, the giggles subsided slightly. He deliberately passed the foliage – an act which drew an immediate squeak of laughter. Warakk meandered around another rock, one just large enough at its widest to hide him if he crouched and shuffled along, and snuck up behind the giggling pink-feathered chick.

As Warakk drew nearer, his sister, Korru, sucked in a breath and began to rise, stretching her neck out to peer through the greens in hopes of catching sight of him again. Warakk paused long enough to shake his head at this obvious mistake.

Then he leapt.

"KWEEEEEEEEEEH!"

Motherhen's head snapped about at her chick's call of distress, but she relaxed when Korru burst from the bushes with Warakk snapping at her side. The gold chick, twice the size of his younger sister, was using his greater strength to full advantage, blocking her attempts to reach the nest as she shrieked and stumbled.

"Monster got you, monster got you!" Warakk punctuated his call with another snap to Korru's side. She dodged with a squeal.

"Motherhen! Warakk mean!"

"You hide bad, monster eat you!"

"Not!"

"So!" Warakk replied, inspiration striking. "Monster eat you all up, Korru gone now, Korru ghost-beast now."

Korru shrieked again in sudden fear, darting around Warakk with greater speed than before and racing for the nest, screaming a chant of "Not not not not not!" the entire way. Warakk watched her go, momentarily satisfied, before remembering that he had two more chicks to seek out. He turned around with a huff and renewed his search.

He could not believe he was playing such a hatchling-game as Hiding.

In very little time, Warakk had found Raduko, his green sister, crouched amid a pile of reddish-colored loose rocks and scree. Though she had remained still and quiet, unlike Korru, her color had stood out so blaringly against the stones to Warakk's sight that he spotted her in moments and was quick to chase her back to the nest as well.

His brother, Rakkawar, was proving far more challenging.

In all honesty, Warakk had expected to find Rakkawar first when the little chick convinced him to play. Every sense that the gold got from the tiny white was that of frailty, a sort of wavering here-but-not-here feeling. There was something about Rakkawar, something about his nearly-translucent white feathers and red-tinged eyes, something that suggested he might not last long in the harsh mountains. As such, Warakk had never imagined that his search for the chick would take him so far from the nest and from Motherhen's protective presence.

Warakk lifted his beak and tested the air yet again. And yet again, he found a soft tinge of scent that was Rakkawar's excitement, twisted with another smell that Warakk had only ever caught when he or one of his former siblings had spotted something strange and interesting for the first time.

Curiosity.

Feeling his own sense of wonder rising, Warakk continued his stumbling descent of the almost-path he (and Rakkawar, it would seem) had found. The rocks here were not as tall or wide as they were higher in the mountain, where the nest sat, and the air tasted warmer and thicker to Warakk. He realized, as he skirted around yet another boulder too big to hop over, that he had never tasted air like this, and he had never gone along a path that fell so steadily downwards.

Where could it be leading him?

Warakk rounded another bend, and there, on a level bit of path, was Rakkawar. The white chick wasn't tucked behind stone or under scrub; instead, he sat where one side of the path fell away in a short, steep cliff face, peering over the edge with a hint of wonder on his face. Before Warakk could make a sound to announce his presence, Rakkawar lifted his head and looked directly at his golden brother.

"Warakk," Rakkawar greeted. "There funny smell. What those?"

Game forgotten for the moment, Warakk trotted over to where Rakkawar sat. Crouching down himself for better balance, the young chocobo peered downwards.

Below them was a wide gorge, framed on both sides by tall cliff faces. The two chocobos sat on a relatively low ledge on one of these cliffs, and their ledge, while wide enough for the both of them to walk abreast, could not have been more than an eighth of the width of the path below. It was flat, clear of rocks except at the very edges, and darkened by the shadow of the mountains. Despite the darkness and distance, however, Warakk could clearly see a small group of creatures below, all of them making their way along the path, up the mountain. It was hard to tell from above, but Warakk thought they walked on their two hind legs, like chocobos, yet they didn't seem to have any wings or feathers. One of them was white, while the others were of darker colors he couldn't see properly through the gloom, and each had a differently-colored patch of fur at the very top of its head. They were at once repulsive and attractive; Warakk simultaneously wanted to run home, hide, and never see such things again, and he wanted to go down, greet them, and become friends.

Then, all at once, their smell hit him.

Sharp, tangy, overpowering, dominant. The smell of a plant-eater and the smell of a hunter in one. The scent of something natural – something any chocobo, rabbit, squirrel, or bug Warakk had ever encountered had at the base of their scent – overlaid with the scent of something wrong…like a monster.

Warakk's heart raced. Monsters, or friends? Hunters, or grazers? Run away, or go to?

"Warakk?"

Rakkawar's soft little voice cut through his musings just enough to gain his attention. Warakk turned hazy, confused eyes on his little brother.

"Scent scary. What those?"

Tongue dry, Warakk answered in the only way he could.

"I not know."

The two chicks watched the strange creatures until they had walked out of their sight, and remained perched on the ledge until the strange halting sounds the creatures made had faded from their hearing. Only then, when nothing remained except the lingering remnants of the beasts' electrifying scent, did either Warakk or Rakkawar dare to move again.

The gold chick stood first, shaking dust from his feathers.

"Come, Rakkawar," he said. "Nest go now."

Rakkawar remained still for a moment longer before joining his older brother on the path upwards.

"Those scary," the white said softly. "Not want…no see again. Not want see again, all time."

"I want see again," Warakk replied, surprising even himself. He stopped walking for a moment to mull over the warks that had risen from his beak, seemingly of their own accord. He wanted to see these creatures again? Why?

Rakkawar also stopped, utterly bewildered, but unable to find the words to express this. Warakk struggled himself with the idea. Again, why? It was just a smell…terrifying, alluring, danger and safety, and it didn't make any sense. It felt, Warakk tentatively decided, like he was torn in two pieces on the inside. A part of him was like Rakkawar – frozen with horror at the mere thought of those creatures. But another part…

Warakk shook his head and forced a laugh for his little brother.

"Warakk feather-brain," he said in false self-mockery. "Hungry mess up scents. Go nest now?"

Rakkawar immediately relaxed, feeling that the threat and danger of those things was far gone now.

"Hungry. Go nest," he agreed, and the two began to amble up the path again. Once they reached the familiar realm of sharp, cool air and the path leveled off again, Warakk remembered his original purpose in seeking out his brother.

"Rakkawar," he said, gaining the white's attention. With a grin in his blue eyes, he leaned over and snapped playfully at the chick's feathers, drawing surprised squeak from the little one. "Monster got you."

That night, as the chicks snuggled against Motherhen to sleep, Rakkawar suddenly remembered the encounter with the strange beasts in the mountain.

"Motherhen?" he said, drawing sleepy groans from his two sisters. Warakk raised his head in curiosity as Motherhen turned her attention from preening to her youngest son. Once the white was reasonably certain of his mother's focus, he plowed on ahead. "Saw things. Not now, today. They smell…real, real-not, hunt, graze. I want hide, I want run. Scary. What those?"

"Monster?" Motherhen suggested, a little confused. Rakkawar paused, having never seen or smelled a live monster up close – he could not compare them.

Warakk, however, had.

"Not monster," he said quickly. "Two-leg-walk, but not wings."

Motherhen sat still much longer, thinking so long that both Rakkawar and Warakk feared she had fallen asleep without answering.

"Humans," she finally whispered. Warakk shivered. The wark of the word carried a bad sound, with none of the mixed good he had smelled in the creatures. Rakkawar burrowed further into Motherhen's black feathers. He did not venture another question, but Warakk…

Warakk wanted to know more.

"What…humans?"

"Humans. They…make hold still, but not touch. Put weight on back and in beak, and make run this way that way fast slow stop with weight. I…I not know. They…no let run where want. Beak-weight makes hold still. Box-nest, all cover over like cave but not like cave, make hold still. Once, made me hold still. I find path, run away. Humans not-good."

Warakk waited for more, eager to soak up new knowledge from a talkative Motherhen, but she fell silent and tucked her head under her wing. He tried one more time.

"Motherhen? Why humans not-good?"

"Go sleep," she mumbled. "Forget, go sleep."

Warakk stared through the pitch darkness, unable to see Motherhen's bulk beside him, though he could feel her warmth and the motion of her breathing. She was falling asleep quickly, and his siblings already were. He was now wide-awake and restless, but he could do nothing but slump against her side and wait for sleep to finally take him as well. All the while, his mind whirled enough to make him dizzy. Nothing Motherhen told him made any sense (holding a chocobo still without touching them? Weight forcing direction and speed out of a chocobo's run? What was this?) and none of it reconciled with his desire to see these creatures again.

He shouldn't see them again.

But he wanted to…up close!

Without really meaning to, Warakk recalled the path from the other day and wondered if there was a way to get down there, to reach the place the humans walked. He wondered what was at each end of the path…a nest at one, a lake or greens ground at the other? He wouldn't know unless he could look.

How to look?

He would have to sneak away when none of the others were looking. Simple enough with Motherhen; as he grew larger, she seemed to pay a little less attention to his movements than to his three new siblings'.

Perhaps another game of Hiding. Then, while they hid, he could sneak down to that path again…

Warakk's breathing slowed and he fell from his half-formed plans into a dream of terrifying smells and creatures, underlaid by a lovely warmth in his chest which told him that, despite the fear, everything in that dream was right.