The Initiation [Pups & Syr]
08-03-2013, 11:12 PM
The youth had found solitude beneath the modified roots of a large willow, the naturally engraved den-like entrance beneath the tree had been more than enticing to the expectant mother; not much effort had been required to make it worthy as temporary housing for the life that now squirmed wrathfully within her womb. She would sit at the entrance, nostrils quivering as she remained aware of any potential menace, the helpless situation she could feel growing heavier within her abdomen would be enough to put her on edge, a rising hatred for the pain the tiny creatures would inflict beginning to tap mercilessly at her mind. Jaws would be thrust athwart, searching desperately for contact with her lower stomach, gnawing mercilessly at the contractions of muscle that would send ruthless jolts of pain ricocheting her cadaver. She would presume her mate lingered somewhere near, though hoped, for both their sakes that he would allow her her isolation; the helplessness she felt, strangling her airways, paralysing her core, was enough to encourage a sense of hatred for the pregnancy that had arrested her for so long. It would not take much stimulation for the woman to snap at toothless beings, shredding their good intentions with aggravated jaws.
She would attempt to wrestle the seize of nature with desperate incisors, raking them mercilessly across conceited ribs, grazing her skin until it would pain her enough to change site. Frequently now, her spine would arch in involuntary waves of pushing, a screech of pain echoing feminine maw as liquid would begin to pool beneath her; a flooding of pale fluid that would announce the arrival of the first babe. Hesitantly, reluctantly, the russet queen would retreat beneath the confines of her den; crouched uncomfortably beneath the surface as the first sign of life would be forced from her body, wriggling within the pallid encasing of its brew. She would feel it for a few moments between her limbs, it?s squirming growing weaker as it struggled for oxygen; though the first-time mother could do no more than watch, perhaps unaware of her required actions, or too distracted by the continuous waves that still rocketed her pelvis.
Barely moments later and another squirming creature would drop alongside the other, now immobile and lifeless, though this time she had learnt; and quickly the youth would reach between her forelimbs, licking free the pale sack that enveloped her child, unravelling the crying being from its encasing as it writhed helplessly at her feet. A sense of custody would begin to flurry the two year olds chest, expanding beneath her ribs as she looked upon the russet marked child with liability, heed. And carefully she would give in to the requirements of mother-nature, lowering her elbows to the earth and rolling to her side as the babe would search eagerly for its first feast; the nudging and tickling an irritable sensation the lady would need to get used to before appreciating.
The birth would leave as quickly as it had arrived; and surrounding the woman would be her first spawn, five of them vigorous, representations of future magnificence, grateful for the perfected incest that had formerly created them. The lifeless child would be pushed athwart by a half-hearted hind limb, no pain felt for its loss as the young mother would lie, exhausted, allowing her offspring the fortune of self-decision, assisting nobody in their conquest of life, but rather allowing the babes to path their own success. The strong would live, and that was all that mattered to the vixen. Silently, pale eyes would begin to flicker, only the whining of new life to be heard as the recently departed alphess would attempt to recover her body, impatience writhing her intellect though unapparent within her motionlessness.
ooc; for all syros pups! presuming there are five, any who don't reply will die I suppose.
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