desecration

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She had known it was coming, this time. By no means a pro given only having been pregnant once before yet she wouldn't forget this. Tender did it begin in her hips and her sides as she splayed herself against the den. She had decorated and filled it appropriately, lined with what she could salvage from Mystery's skin and fur. Morag wondered how else she might be able to desecrate the little bitch's skin and she smirked momentarily as she thought of just what she could do, or more correctly, who she could do --

Morag groaned as she bit back a snarl as a particularly strong contraction hit and she seethed, "VENGEANCE!" Because it was going to be a tradition now that she would make him suffer just as she suffered -- it would always take the both of them to ensure this happened so of course both of them had to have some sort of torture. Hers was worse, of course, so really, he had little to complain about other than hearing his name shouted angrily through the trees of the eerie woods.

The first one came and it was a boy, a big, chunky boy who looked like he held various shades of downy greys until she panted a little closer to him to lick across his head as she had been taught to do. Darker on one side, she realised and lighter on the other. Interesting. Morag was given little time to watch and see if it made it over to her teats for another wave of contractions hit and Morag pushed, screeching the Warlord's name with fury -- more so for the dramatics, really, but how could she not when she was squeezing multiple lives out of her?

Second was another boy, dark all over reminiscent of his sires browns -- aside from the touches of his mother. Morag's signature teardrop markings beneath her eyes and dotted brows. She snorted as she drew her tongue once more along ones head, nudging it slightly but not putting it towards her teats. If it wanted to live, it would go to where it was needed.

Morag was not entirely surprised to have to push another two out, given the size of her previous litter but one did surprise her was not another boy but the appearance of a girl. A girl, much like her previous litter, surrounded by boys but this one did not have @Lilith's stormy greys colouring. The girl held Morag's lighter touches but even lighter still, smaller in weight than the brother she had not long followed. The brother was an array of colours but fucking hell the boy was chunky.

She panted as she watched them, casting her fiery gaze to the mess that the birth had created. Upon Mystery's dead fur lay her birth juices and blood, matting and soaking the dark fur with a cruel glisten. Morag's smile was toothy and vicious, her panting breathes riddled with something akin to a laugh as she stretched out. I win. 

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He was swaddled in comfort since the beginning of his semi-consciousness then suddenly thrust out into the cold world which made the chunky boy cry out almost instantly. His cries were drowned by the juices of birth still being coughed up by clearing lungs, encouraged to take a breath by his mother who licked him clean in between pushes.

A feeling he immediately adored and grew obsessed with. Though his whines and soft cries did not stop, he didn't offer any struggle against the encouraging movement to go and feed upon. her breast. Food. She was warmth, she was food... she was his goddess as far as the little prince of horror was concerned and knew nothing else but her.

For now, he would be obsessed with her presence...

But as he grew, the world would know that obsession would only be the beginning. He would kill for this woman once his body would grow into the killer he was destined to be.

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 It had been long enough. The little monster within his mother had its time to brew, and now it was time to be shown to the world. Krueger had been the source of most of his mother's discomfort the last few weeks. Kicking, ready to come out, it was getting cramped with his three siblings and he was itching for whatever was next. He was not the first out, but the second, taking his first breath of air without a sound. Ichor soaked parts of his body, the smell pressing close to his nose. It was comforting. Maybe it was because it'd been mixed with his mother's own scent. But, it sparked something that he was too young to understand. All he knew was he was hungry. He did not scream nor cry, but nestle close to the warmth, clamping down on one of his mother's teats. It wouldn't hurt, with no teeth, no, not yet. Chaos underneath those closed eyes and evil brewing in that simmered heart. There was no room for anything else. 

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