SIXTEEN
please don't go. i'll eat you whole, i love you so.
She vaguely remembers her own emergence into the world: a cracking shell, her mouth full of blood. Perhaps that is why she thought this was all some strange, slow death. The twins squirmed eagerly in her womb and left her exhausted before each day had even begun. But now they’re still while pain flashes through her like lightning. The monster stumbles into the red clay with heaving breaths as each contraction washes over her. This is it, she tells herself. The end has come for her on the eve of the cleansing.
And then a child slips from her. His weak cries send her into a panic as she tries to stand, to flee from him. But her labor is not quite finished. She collapses once more and sucks in a sharp breath as the daughter emerges alongside the colt. Children, she thinks with disgust.
Ciara recalls the way she had wanted to devour her father and she quickly decides these two must feel the same of her. She drags herself up onto her hooves and prepares her fangs to devour the daughter first. It’s difficult when she is this tired, but her fangs replace the blunt equine teeth as she lowers her head to her younger child’s throat.
The boy rolls onto his stomach and issues a sudden shriek, a command. The pastel mother turns to appraise him now with a tilt of her head. He takes a quick breath and spits a short plume of fire at her, a warning that he follows up with another screech. Ciara steps back to avoid his flames but she keeps her fangs bared. A snarl rumbles from the depth of her gut while she weighs her options. Leave the children here to die, or try to devour them despite whatever strength the have.
Sixteen flexes his small talons and rises up on wobbling legs. Though small, he seems tenacious enough to claw her face open, at least. She turns and leaves them in the Pangean dust. Either the aliens will slaughter them or they’ll find a way to survive. Regardless, it isn’t her concern, anymore.
And then a child slips from her. His weak cries send her into a panic as she tries to stand, to flee from him. But her labor is not quite finished. She collapses once more and sucks in a sharp breath as the daughter emerges alongside the colt. Children, she thinks with disgust.
Ciara recalls the way she had wanted to devour her father and she quickly decides these two must feel the same of her. She drags herself up onto her hooves and prepares her fangs to devour the daughter first. It’s difficult when she is this tired, but her fangs replace the blunt equine teeth as she lowers her head to her younger child’s throat.
The boy rolls onto his stomach and issues a sudden shriek, a command. The pastel mother turns to appraise him now with a tilt of her head. He takes a quick breath and spits a short plume of fire at her, a warning that he follows up with another screech. Ciara steps back to avoid his flames but she keeps her fangs bared. A snarl rumbles from the depth of her gut while she weighs her options. Leave the children here to die, or try to devour them despite whatever strength the have.
Sixteen flexes his small talons and rises up on wobbling legs. Though small, he seems tenacious enough to claw her face open, at least. She turns and leaves them in the Pangean dust. Either the aliens will slaughter them or they’ll find a way to survive. Regardless, it isn’t her concern, anymore.
@[Catryn] you don't have to reply to this, i just wanted them borned.