Blackfeather Woods Did I just seal the deal?

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Opioid abuse.

She fed them when she was demanded to. Her body and mind were still weak after the toil of carrying and then bearing the daemons that had crawled out of her womb. Only three remained. One was "normal", the exact match of his father-uncle. The other two bore crippling deformities that would mark them for life. And the one worst of all was mewling now, searching for her.

She glared at him from the farthest corner of the den, too far for him to reasonably reach. A year ago she remembered watching her first litter go through the same steps as the stunted one now went through. She remembered the pride that she had felt, how careful she was with them, how loving, and how it brutally contrasted with the void in her stomach, eating away at her soul. 

Potema grimaced, turning her head away from the sight of the stunted boy's wide eyed movements. She lapped at a few of the black seeds besides her. They were the only things keeping her afloat in the past few weeks, and she steadily consumed more with each passing day. Constantly in a opioid fueled haze, she knew that she was deteriorating, but it was so peaceful that she didn't want to stop. Like she was floating, gliding over her problems. Her head slowly rocked back and forth with no rhyme or reason.