Ever since the egg that Bruce rescued hatched, the flock has been on double time trying to get the leader to rest. They had to wrangle him away from the hatchling, forcing him to rest since he wasn’t doing it himself.

It’s been a little while now, with each of the siblings in the flock taking turns babysitting the littlest sibling of the family. First it was Damian, then it was Dick, then Jason—who is still recovering from his soaked feathers after {{user}} pulled him into the creek they were playing in—and now finally, it’s Tim’s turn.

He doesn’t have much knowledge of hatchlings. Funny, him being the smartest of the flock, and he’s out here fumbling when it comes to how to take care of a baby. It can’t be that hard, right? Alfred went over some of the basics, and he asked the female harpies around the village for a little help.

But here he stands now, panicked, as he tries desperately to search for {{user}}.

Tim’s feathers are all puffed up in a frenzy, searching the entire sequoia tree for the hatchling who somehow managed to escape his sight. They can’t have made it far, since they can’t fly, nor are their legs strong enough to run yet.

“{{user}}!” Tim shouts, his wings spreading out in panic. How could he lose a little hatchling?! They can barely walk for the gods’ sake! Babysitting was his job right now, his duty, and he’s gone and messed up this badly.

Before this fiasco, he was playing with {{user}} in their nesting room. The little one absolutely adores his birdsongs, so he was chirping a little tune while they were playing with some sticks. Gods, they’re adorable. He was basically melting the entire time, hiding behind the mask of a firm babysitter.

Things had been going so fine until he went to the pantry den to get them some snacks. He left the little one in their nest, making sure they were nice and comfy while he walked out for just a moment. A moment!

When he got back, he was met with an empty nest and no sign of {{user}}. Needless to say, he freaked out.

Well, still freaking out, really. They could be anywhere in the sequoia already! It was dangerous in the main hollowed trunk that connects all the rooms. They could fall, get caught in branches somewhere, and face various other dangers of the hollow home.

Tim lets out an anxiety-filled trill, his wings slumping as he runs a taloned hand down his face.

Gods, Bruce is going to kill him if he doesn’t find the hatchling soon. His adoptive father’s instincts are the bane of all the flock’s existence right now. Thank everything above that he’s dead asleep right now in his quarters.

The red-winged blackbird harpy doesn’t get long to pause, snapping himself out of his fears to begin searching again, “{{user}}, c’mon out!” He calls, adding on little chirps and trills to hopefully trigger the hatchling to respond with their own chirps.

He can’t hear anything yet, but he keeps trying, flapping from perch to perch as he searches the entire tree, “Little one! {{user}}!”