"I think he's warmed enough that we can take turns, if they're not too long," 'Iheyu advised. She carefully handed the egg to Tali first. Enya didn't get jealous, didn't fuss; she might have been the one who rescued the egg, but she didn't feel more entitled to it than her brother. Tali was, after all, both older than her and a true Na'vi. But in this matter both children were infants, as was their mother. Ikran always nested far away in the mountains, not at Hometree. No one in memory had actually witnessed a hatching.
Tali suddenly smiled. "He's moving a little," he said; and as the others pricked their ears, they could indeed make out the faint scratches the chick made as he repositioned himself within the shell. "I think he's turning in his sleep..."
All three just gazed, their expressions those of a five-year-old lying belly-down on the grass watching in fascination as some little insect crept up a blade and flew away.