Delicate and soft, seemingly prepared to break beneath the slightest pressure. With care they ran their paw over the strangely leathery egg, following its curve until they came to stop at the mound of fabric they had placed it within, feathers lining the make-shift nest. Art had chanced upon the lone egg during their gathering, abandoned beneath a bush or otherwise overlooked, something within them wanting to take it, to try and give the young within a chance. They had gone against it at first, leaving it where they had found it, it grew harder to push the thought from their mind, however, fretting over it more each time it came to rise to the forefront of their thoughts.

Finally they had given in and had gently taken the egg, depositing it in their satchel for safe transport, unsure on how the others would react. As such Atreus had taken to hiding it, wrapped within a mound of loose fabric, feathers and other soft items they had been able to scrounge up, kept in their room or satchel so it was always close by. Each day that passed them by their worry grew. It seemed the egg was little more than a dud, left because it hadn't hatched as its brethren had, and yet they refused to give up.

Upon the edge of the flower field Atreus had gently set the egg up in a mound of fabric and feathers once more, curled protective about it, worried gaze set upon it, hope a gentle thing in their heart, dying as the day wore on. A sigh broke through their lips and it was as they began to lift their paw they felt it – a slight shift, movement just beneath the leathery shell. Lips quirked up into a small, hesitant smile, growing stronger as at first a small egg tooth, cutting through the shell until a tongue flicked through a slit. It took only a short time for the small snake to push through entirely, white bands splitting its black body, speaking of its  non-venomous nature.

For a short time it merely lay within the nest, tongue flicking forth every now and then, the tip of its tail caught within the shell. Once more worry grew in the lion, wondering if something had been amiss and the snake was unable to function properly, before it came to move all at once. Drawn to their warmth it quickly moved closer to where they had come to rest their paw upon the edge of make-shift nest, oddly curious as it bumped against them, unlike any snake they had heard of. “Hello there,” speaking softly they leaned closer, careful not to disturb it as it began to explore, moving about the nest.

[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags

[b]"A new friend?"

Margaery's inquiry was laced with intrigue, her blue-gray gaze studying the newly hatched reptile intently. Thus far, her perception of snakes had been skewed by her family's inhumane uses of them. Her father, obsessed as he was paranoid, enlisted in the help of many witches to foretell his future and ensure that his family (though she knew he only cared about himself) stayed alive. They always gutted a still-breathing snake for the ritual, its body cast aside shortly after as if it were nothing. As appalled by the act as she was, Margaery was still used to it. Used to the horror. Which was why this sight extended her to her a strange sense of curiosity as well as relief.

To see a snake being treated so gently, its purpose to Art not sacrifice... it coaxed a smile out of her. "Have you thought of a name yet, love?" Margaery inquired lightly, crouching down to better investigate the baby reptile. What an unexpected pair - lion and snake. They were both hunters in their own right, she supposed, but she certainly found their newfound companionship interesting.

The Cosmic General would glance briefly at Suiteheart, sending her a greeting through their bond rather than audibly. She wondered if her wife could detect her newfound notes of longing, Margaery suddenly wanting a pet (could she call the snake Art's new pet? Was that appropriate?) for herself. Though knowing her, she'd probably just treat the poor thing like another one of her children, protecting it fiercely as mother's did. Oh well, she could still wish, couldn't she?

It caught them by surprise to say the very least, gaze snapping up towards Suiteheart, jaws falling open though no noise rose. The desire to pull the nest closer, to hide it against their chest and keep the tiny reptile within safe, hidden from those about them, was strong, pulling at them. Seemingly with no thought their paw moved to do just that, curling about the bundle and drawing it a little closer, yet the movement came to stop as they finally registered the words. There was something about Suite, something soft and warm, a comfort her wife also excluded they were inexplicably drawn to, which left them at ease, though they were still careful.

Slowly they removed their paw and shuffled back a bit to allow her a chance to look upon the new born king snake, not quite prepared to leave it entirely, their stance still protective. “I found an egg,” they spoke softly, unsure of how exactly to word it, a frown pulling at their lips as they struggled to put their thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I just didn't want it to die, I didn't know it was a snake.”

Speak of the devil angel and she shall appear. The response was surprising, one they had not dared to hope for, yet it would be foolish to say their heart didn't beat a little harder, over-joyed their little friend had seemingly been accepted. All too quickly it fades and they are left wondering, various names running through their mind, none seeming to fit. They had not thought upon keeping the snake, if anything they would merely look after it until such a time it could be set free in a further part of the territory, yet something in them wanted to keep it, a companion if not a pet.

“Juron,” they spoke with excitement bubbling beneath the soft tone, the name slipping out without much prompt. Of course they might have gone the route of naming it after those spoken about in the tales they had heard as a child, the world serpent and that of his sister, yet neither seemed fitting to the tiny creature. Rather their mind turned elsewhere, the word raising unbidden to their lips, little more than something they had likely picked up or was a jumble of other words.

“Oh, I hatched it, I guess,” Atreus turned towards Church, moving their body to better block his view, noting the way he reacted and not wishing to further upset him. Such had been the reaction they had been waiting for yet it was still a pale shade to what they had feared, enough to finally put them at ease. “I'm sorry, I didn't know what it was, I'll keep it away if you don't like snakes.”