Antarctica is a highly unforgiving environment. It was not that long ago when Mumble and Gloria discovered they'd be parents, and soon, Gloria had an egg. When it was time for Gloria to get food and for Mumble to protect the egg, he'd wanted to prevent the same mistake his father made.

What if the chick ended up being ostracized the same way he was when he was small? What if the chick inherited his same terrible singing voice, like the other penguins thought would happen once Gloria had their egg?

Hopefully not. He'd be a better father than Memphis….right?

As the gray-feathered penguin walked through the blizzard, egg between his legs, huddled next to so many new fathers, it seemed as though his worries clouded his thoughts just like a blizzard, and didn't cease no matter how hard he tried.

Seymour, his chickhood friend, also a new father, tried to console him, but alas, Mumble had his eyes open that sleepless night, the sky pitch blast, the wind whipping around like the beaks of vicious skuas.

He did not drop the egg into the snow.

—————-

Then one day, after yet another storm, Mumble's worries would be eased. The eggs started to hatch and one by one, a newborn penguin chick would emerge.

Finally, after much suspense, the egg between Mumble's legs began to twitch. Slowly but surely, the newborn pecked his way out. He opened his beautiful blue eyes and looked upwards at his amazed father, peeping in excitement.

There. Mumble was no longer troubled at the thought of being a father. This tiny, precious life depended on him for survival. He knew he and Gloria would protect his new, tiny son with their lives, not to mention show him the beauty of the world they lived in.

"Erik." Mumble spoke after a long pause. "Your name is Erik...and...and I'm your papa.."

"F-F-Fweezing!" Erik exclaimed, rushing back under his father's legs.

"It's okay, I've got you.." Mumble softly spoke, leaning down to gently embrace his chick. "Papa's here...let's go find your mother."

The end.