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"Hunter."
Brown eyes quickly tore themselves away from the page they were reading, his heart in his throat at the sudden arrival. He hadn't expected his uncle home so soon—or rather, he might have just lost track of time.
He's up and out of his seat before he knew it, not even bothering to save his page before discarding the novel. Uncle was just getting out of his coat before Hunter was there to take it from him, dutifully going to hang it neatly in its place on the rack. It was the same old routine as always. However, this time, Uncle had brought something home with him.
"What's that?"
"Hunter."
"Apologies," he blurted quickly, suddenly sheepish from being scolded. Instead of waiting for his uncle to explain as the older man picked whatever he had brought back up again, the sheet thrown over obscuring it from view, Hunter moved towards their kitchenette. The kettle he had started a little while ago whistled quietly, pouring easy into the little cup he had set out prior.
"No incidents today, sir. They brought in two people. Ms. Clawthorne gave them a warm welcome. Told them to come by tomorrow for your guidance."
Hunter brought the cup of tea to his uncle's chair, handing it off carefully as the steam billowing off of it warned of potential burns. It had been years since he's accidentally burned himself doing this part, no longer the foolish little kid he had once been.
"... And?"
Even though that kid was gone, this part was still never easy, even at the age of eighteen. His hands found his sleeves instinctively, already fiddling with the hems in his nerves. Being eighteen didn't make it any less frightening to tell his uncle disappointing news.
"And... And Mrs. Snapdragon and her team haven't found the defective yet. No new leads as far as I have heard."
Brown eyes hesitantly dart to his uncle's expression. He could tell that Uncle wasn't pleased. His expression had been schooled into one of indifference, but Hunter knew the signs well. The slight crease to his brow. The tightness of his posture. Hunter wasn't surprised, either. It had been about two weeks since since one of their members had decided to up and leave, disgracing the teachings that Uncle had so generously bestowed upon him.
What had been to his surprise, however, was that Uncle didn't get angry. Instead, his tone was the same as before, nodding toward the thing he had brought home that sat near him on the table.
"I have something for you."
While he had been curious to know what it had been, Hunter had not been expecting to hear that it was for him. He raised a brow, apprehensive of just what sort of occasion provoked this. He didn't have to wait long, however, as his uncle sat his cup down so that he could grab the sheet, pulling it off of the object in a heap on the table.
His jaw fell open in surprise.
Hunter didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been that. The first thing he realized was that it was very much not a box, but instead a cage, the stainless steel of the bars reflecting the warm glow of the kitchen's overhead light. While he still would have very much been grateful to his Uncle for getting him an empty cage, manners drilled into him ever since he could remember, what truly stole his breath was the fact that it wasn't.
"Wha—Uncle? Are you... Are you sure?"
Despite his overwhelming excitement, chest swelling with emotions he couldn't place, Hunter kept his hands to himself, not yet given permission to touch. Inside, a tiny speckled egg laid, protected by the bit of bedding shoved in with it. The young man's mouth opened and closed with questions that never left his throat, thoughts already racing faster than what it could keep up with, so much so, that he almost didn't catch his uncle speaking to him again.
"Yes, I am sure... You have been excelling in your studies as of late."
"I get to... keep them?"
"If you so choose, then yes."
Blue eyes observed his reactions very closely, but Hunter had been too surprised and thrilled to notice. A reward. It wasn't very often that this would happen, especially since he struggled to do what was classified as the bare minimum most times, but that must have meant that uncle was very pleased with his efforts as of late. He had to make a considerable effort not to flap his hands around, a bad, bad habit that uncle would scold him for, as he did not want to lose this reward just as soon as he had received it. Instead, he moved closer to get a better look inside, careful with putting his hands on the bars as if any sudden movement would harm the little, defenseless egg inside.
It's extremely tiny for one thing. Hunter most certainly already had plans to move it into a different container with more bedding, afraid of trying to move it and the egg slipping right through the bars. It was also decorated with brown speckled spots, already narrowing down several possible species. The poor light in the room made it difficult to assess just what color it was, but Hunter suspected maybe a warbler of some kind. Perhaps a cardinal? Or even a blue jay. Definitely not a chickadee, already too large in size to be one. Hunter wasn't sure. He would have to consult with his books and his lamp to find out just what type of creature he would be caring for.
"Oh—"
His heart leapt into his throat, suddenly anxious that he had taken much too long to properly thank Uncle for such a gratuitous gift. How rude of him, to be so caught up and forget his manners. Hunter turned to face his only remaining family, posture stiff just how he had been taught.
"Thank you, uncle. I'm... I appreciate it very much. I'll keep doing my best, sir. I won't. I won't let you down."
He tried his hardest not to stumble over words, but it was difficult not to, throat tight from dealing with so many emotions at once. If Uncle was not impressed by his sincere gratitude, then he did not show it, expression unreadable as he sat in silence for a few fleeting moments. It made Hunter nervous, but the lack of critique made him believe that he did just fine. Maybe.
The blond watched with bated breath as slowly the faintest hint of a smile graced his uncle's expression. Odd that such a small gesture could take so much weight off of his shoulders.
"No... You won't."