Noctisardor Bypass the universe had to fall apart

though the morning outside of the birthing den promises of a day to be humid and sweltering, the dark, stony world slug exists in is cool and sheltering. it would be a while yet before slug and his sisters were able to venture to the world outside, though the bleached paragon of his paternal grandfather stirs awake and stretches, blinking baby-blues to the welcoming shadows and blurring shapes of the birthing den. the young, still-deaf legionnaire squints and lets out a squeak akin to a call of arms and slug nestles against a sister for a few seconds before seized by impulsiveness that would one day be akin to curiosity; slug lets out a low grunt of effort and starts to partially wiggle and partially army crawl towards the open space of the birthing den; though his small burst of energy wanes quickly and he lets out a huff of exertion in the next handful of seconds.