A noise vibrates through my ossicles,
the hairs on my neck stand like bristles
at the thought of nearby threat,
my palms and forehead start to sweat
But I'll stay calm, I am no fool
I am able to keep my cool
Even though the chambers, four,
I know none of them has a door
I am not scared, those of my ilk
will rarely cry over spilt milk
You may not know me personally,
but you will know my family.
What is my family's name?