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Phil paused at the sound of soft cries. He tucked his wings carefully against his back, shifting the axe in his hand carefully. He glanced around, eyes darting carefully through the green until they rested on a spot of brown. A box. He stored his axe carefully, moving over to the box and listening as the soft cries grew louder. Phil dropped to a knee, peering inside and pausing. The baby inside was sobbing, fussy, a mess. He couldn’t help his paternal instincts as they hit, immediately scooping the baby out from the box and cradling him to his chest. He glanced around, nervous for a long moment before he let out a breath. There was no one here. No one would just leave a baby in the woods without purpose. He looked around again, glancing at the food he’d managed to gather. That would be enough for now. He held the baby closer to himself, putting the food into his bag and stretching his wings. He supposed he’d be home sooner than expected. The baby was still crying, though his small hands reached out to grab the chain that held Phil’s cloak on, fingers wrapping around the fragile chain with the small heart on the end. Phil didn’t mind. He held the baby a bit closer, pulling his bag on and taking off into the air. The baby stopped crying at takeoff, reaching out into the air as the two went, Phil making sure he wouldn’t fall. The flight home was short, Phil coming to a shaky landing and holding the baby closer still, wrapping his wings around them both. The baby sneezed at the feathers, then began to fuss once more. Phil couldn’t help but curse under his breath, hurrying inside now and folding his wings neatly against his back. He pushed the door open, glancing at the two children who were seated in the living room. The eight-year-old looked up first, face breaking into a grin, and he pulled the five-year-old up with him.
“Dad!” Wilbur called, running over to Phil and latching onto his leg. Phil chuckled, resting a hand on the boy’s head and ruffling his hair.
“Hi, Wil,” he greeted softly, then smiled at the piglin as he came over and latched onto Phil’s other leg. “and hello to you too, Techno.”
“Dad, what are you holding?” Wilbur asked, peeking at Phil’s arms as he fixed his beanie on his head. Phil hummed, shifting the baby again.
“Oh. I found him while I was out hunting. Do you want to hold him?” Phil smiled at Wilbur’s immediate nod, gently pulling himself away from the children and pressing the baby into Wilbur’s waiting arms.
The baby calmed almost immediately, staring up at the eight-year-old with big blue eyes. He babbled idly, reaching up and resting a small hand on Wilbur’s face. Wilbur giggled, gently rubbing his nose against the baby’s. The piglin child watched quietly, moving from Phil’s leg to stand over by his brother. Wil gently brushed the tuft of blond hair away from the baby’s face, then looked up to Phil.
“Tommy. His name is Tommy,” he decided, then looked back to the baby. The newly named Tommy giggled, a hand reaching up to grab Wilbur’s beanie. Wilbur giggled, moving his head so the baby couldn’t then shifted. “Techno, do you wanna meet Tommy?” The piglin nodded his own arms opening. Wilbur gently set Tommy in Techno’s arms, smiling at the way the middle brother held him close. Techno stared at Tommy, who simply babbled excitedly and grabbed onto Techno’s tusk. The piglin stared, holding the baby a bit closer. He sat on the ground, cradling the baby still to his chest and smiling just barely. Phil smiled gently, sitting down next to the two. Wilbur smiled warmly, sitting down as well and watching Techno hold Tommy.
“Do you two like him?” Phil asked softly, ruffling Wilbur’s hair and looking to Techno. Techno nodded quickly, then stilled once more. Wilbur nodded as well, leaning against Phil’s side. “He’s gonna be your baby brother. I’m going to be home a fair amount more for a while until he’s older, okay?” The two children nodded again, a smile stretching across the older’s face.
“Does that mean you can help me with my wings?” Wilbur asked, shifting where he sat. His flight feathers were growing in, wings in need of near-constant preening. Phil hadn’t ever been great at it, touch just a bit too rough, but Wilbur didn’t seem to mind too much. The eldest nodded gently, running a hand along Wilbur’s back and feeling the feathers. They looked just like his own, black with white tips, large and looming. He was glad to see his son look like himself if he were honest. “Cool.” Wilbur nodded now, reaching for Tommy again. Techno easily passed the baby to his brother, who held him close to his chest and cooed gently at him. Phil took in a breath, shifting.
“Techno, do you want to help me cook dinner while Wilbur watches Tommy?” Phil offered, watching as the piglin nodded quickly. While Phil didn’t understand how something so young could already have such strong bloodlust, he’d done his best to satiate it and cooking was certainly something that helped. Wilbur looked over, smiling a bit.
“Can he sleep in my room, dad?” The young boy inquired, shifting the baby in his arms. Phil chuckled gently and nodded, sending his oldest son running off toward his room with his newest held firmly against him. He turned toward Techno, pushing to stand. The piglin sat there a moment, focusing on a patch of the ground before shaking his head and looking up to Phil again with a snort. Phil smiled softly, then turned, leading the five-year-old to the kitchen.