The Sunspire a hundred and five little blades in a line from your skin to mine and i feel it

The tiny silver girl pulled away from her mother's teat with a soft pop. She lied there, her head lifted as much as it could be, turning as though she could see and was searching for something. She wasn't though. There was a curious sensation rising from her belly, and she issued a whisper-quiet squeak of question. Suddenly, her little body jerked. Hic! Then again. Hic! She squeaked once more, louder, hic!, as the involuntary jerks came quicker and made it harder to breathe. Hic! Hic! Hic! Unsettled by her hiccups, Remi wai—hic!

Well, she tried to wail, anyway.