Post by Cloudmuffin - - on Jun 16, 2011 3:43:50 GMT -7
I watch these critters with a keen eye, following each motion with a sweep of my catty irises. The girl seems to want nothing more than to suckle away at her mother's teats, guzzling the fluid that will make her big and strong. The boy, now that is a different story. He wanders about, curious, unafraid. His eyes gaze up at me knowingly, bravely. The world may be big, but it seems to be his world, well in his mind. In truth the world is mine. But I assume we all consider it so, all of us darq stags with a fetish for control. His every action not only proves to me that my son is worthy of becoming like myself, but also that he wants to. Or if he doesn't, could easily be molded into wanting to. Watching him as I do, I ponder what will happen when he is my size. He does hold my blood, my genes. I would hope that just that alone would make him a worthy opponent. And his looks. Well. He will be his mother's son.
My eyes scavenge the bodice of my sleeping whore. Her stomach reigons, still swollen from bearing children, rises and falls with each dainty breath that tickles the insides of her slender maw, her crafted throat, all the way deep down into what I assume to be the perfect little pretty organs, all dainty and grime free. Even after whelping, her coat shimmers gloriously from her peculiar bathing habits, each hair reflecting the light of the warming sun, creeping ever so closer to the horizen. I will need to awaken her sleeping beauty soon, and lock her up. I don't wish to stay the night here, where newborn critters will whine and suckle, causing disturbance to my sleep. No, I shall go hunting. These pups, they are glorious, but I have never hunted for the outcome, but for the sheer pleasure of it. The conquering. The assertion of my greatness.
Watching my first catch, I realize the stupidity of feeling the need to stow her away so that I can leave. Surely the fae wouldn't be stupid enough to try and escape my clutches, not with the lives of her babies so easy to take, to destroy. I slither backwards, my wings creeping away from my sides ever so slowly. I dance around, slidding easily into my familiar dress of invisibility. Only the slight wrustle of feathers mark my leave as I surge into the air and glide off with strong steady wingbeats.
-----
The scents are familiar as they graze my nose, and I nestle closer to the warmth of it all, drinking in the oozy liquid with quick hungry gulps. I can feel the strength pouring into my viens, slowly, surely. My brother is somewhere near. I can't sense him with any of my normal senses, but something in the back of my mind hums with his prescense. I only wonder why he isn't nursing along side me for a moment or two. His lack of interest leaves me with the best teat, and I can't honestly say that I would rather him be strong if it meant that the steady flow of rich lather that rinses against my tongue and throat would be any less potent.
My eyes scavenge the bodice of my sleeping whore. Her stomach reigons, still swollen from bearing children, rises and falls with each dainty breath that tickles the insides of her slender maw, her crafted throat, all the way deep down into what I assume to be the perfect little pretty organs, all dainty and grime free. Even after whelping, her coat shimmers gloriously from her peculiar bathing habits, each hair reflecting the light of the warming sun, creeping ever so closer to the horizen. I will need to awaken her sleeping beauty soon, and lock her up. I don't wish to stay the night here, where newborn critters will whine and suckle, causing disturbance to my sleep. No, I shall go hunting. These pups, they are glorious, but I have never hunted for the outcome, but for the sheer pleasure of it. The conquering. The assertion of my greatness.
Watching my first catch, I realize the stupidity of feeling the need to stow her away so that I can leave. Surely the fae wouldn't be stupid enough to try and escape my clutches, not with the lives of her babies so easy to take, to destroy. I slither backwards, my wings creeping away from my sides ever so slowly. I dance around, slidding easily into my familiar dress of invisibility. Only the slight wrustle of feathers mark my leave as I surge into the air and glide off with strong steady wingbeats.
-----
The scents are familiar as they graze my nose, and I nestle closer to the warmth of it all, drinking in the oozy liquid with quick hungry gulps. I can feel the strength pouring into my viens, slowly, surely. My brother is somewhere near. I can't sense him with any of my normal senses, but something in the back of my mind hums with his prescense. I only wonder why he isn't nursing along side me for a moment or two. His lack of interest leaves me with the best teat, and I can't honestly say that I would rather him be strong if it meant that the steady flow of rich lather that rinses against my tongue and throat would be any less potent.
Note // wrote this at 7 in the morning after not sleeping that night, and only an hour or so the night before, please dont judge ^^ lol