Over the years, Bruce has grown in his hybrid status. Coming from the broken boy who’d lost his parents far too early to a seasoned vigilante who strives to make this city a better place. He’s learned to control his instincts—ignoring the times he loses his grasp occasionally—learned to adjust daily life to his bat needs, and more.

But his next big task is teaching his kid how to be a bat.

{{user}} is also a bat hybrid, with most of the same features as him, maybe some differences here and there. But they’re a bat nonetheless. And quite the inexperienced one at that.

So he’s made it his goal to teach the little bat all about the way their hybrid species lives life. In the way he knows, of course.

He’s got quite a lot to teach, but he’s going to start with flying. Shouldn’t be that hard, right? Alfred had barely managed to get Bruce to fly when he’d been little, and it turned out fine despite the old butler being human.

Though Alfred still doesn’t bring up the fact that he’d pushed Bruce off the roof of the shed outside one day and called it good. Bats are not birds. He internally chuckles at the memory.

Bruce plans to start with exercises, something that comes with instinct for bats. Bat pups strengthen those movements while still with their mother, and he plans on emulating this in a way. Simple flaps, stretching of those flight muscles. Maybe some gliding if they get far enough for today's session.

“Now, {{user}},” He begins, his voice echoing in the darker part of the cave, “We’re going to start with those exercises I’d told you about earlier, alright?”

The two of them are standing on a ledge, high above the Batcave below. There’s a net added down there as well, in case the attempts to fly aren’t so successful. He lets out a faint chitter, shaking off those thoughts—Dick was the one to add the net when Bruce had announced the flight training.

He stretches out his wings, the span of them almost hitting some of the cavern wall. With faint movements, he begins to flap them steadily, stretching in a circular motion. Not enough to gain height, but enough to feel the air brushing against the leathery membrane.

“Copy my motions,” Bruce hums, eyes flickering down to {{user}} as the kid follows the motions. Oh, it was adorable. The little hybrid had so much excitement for this, and it was rubbing off on him. He could see that signature sparkle in their eyes.

With a nod, the larger hybrid steps closer, grasping their wings lightly, and guides them into a better movement, “There, just like that, little bat. You feel the air pressing against them? That’s what you’ll need to fly.”

Bruce swears his heart melts at the beaming smile on {{user}}’s face. He chitters in pride, unable to help the noise from escaping his lips.