Qeya River devil trigger

Phoebe proved out to be something, alright. Wielding a childish temper like a sledgehammer, any injustice in Phoebe’s household was dealt with, hell be the innocents.

Kill them all and let god sort them out, yada yada.

This fine, blustery morning, she’d discovered something new. That being that she had eyes, she could see, and she could absolutely, without a doubt, smell food but she couldn’t goddamn find it.

So, the first thing she did was swing a wide mouth to try and gobble whatever was around her, be it sibling, moms, or the dirt beneath her. It was going into her mouth.

aaaAAAAAAAAAAA!
wren and her wife had settled into a comfortable routine of shift work; one would go handle things beyond the den while the other watched the children and nursed. where wren had always thought (and worried) she would want as much time to herself as possible when in this neonatal period, she, instead, clung to her babes like a magnet and reveled in the time she got to stay with them. she had learned so much about them already, their little personalities glistening like gems in the sand. the resolute phoebe, the giggly @Sparrow; the princess @Bryony, the daring @Rowyn. it fascinated her and enthralled her to see them grow, the changes that took place every day.
the new mother had gladly taken the morning watch. she had been sitting awake and cleaning dripping milk from their tiny faces when she noticed it — she blinks once, twice, and then a third time before a loud shrieking gasp erupted from her mouth. a set of beady blue eyes stare up at her in the dark, and wren is too excited to care about the fact that there was now a sharp-toothed mouth attacking her foot.
@Silvertongue! look! look, look, look! looklooklooklooklook!

Phoebe couldn’t hear much yet, but she could hear the sounds of what she believed, in ye olden instincts, to be some kind of exotic bird. She released what toes she had managed to fit into her gullet, wobbily raising her head to exchange glances with the bird-mom-creature.

Her first words to her mother’s face are an elegant “horfk”, like a walrus, before she is trying to down the contents of the fur around her dewclaws. Not a single fuck given for her milestone, sorry ma. She’s got fur to munch.

it was on day eleven of having been un-wombed that sparrow aquilanera discovered the joys of being an instigator. 

he barreled into the party like the kool-aid man, bursting down walls of blindness with batting eyelashes and a sour expression. who turned on the damn lights?! he glanced around like a bobblehead, vision blurry but able to lock on to target number one. 

he kicked up the dirt like a bull, or at least he imagined he had, and then proceeded to wiggle himself with all the energy of an earthworm. mom, would you still love me if i was a worm? he let tiny jaws open to showcase these sick new teeth things that he had grown like a badass before proceeding to bite his sister's face as she attempted to devour their mother. 

he summoned up all the saliva he could to engulf her pretty face before expelling a horrid concoction of milk and acid reflux in the form of a burp directly into her nose. he released his grip to let out a bellow with all the dramatics of seagull laughter. 

ahhhh, what fun this was!

Rowyn too had begun to see. And the first thing that he ste his eyes on was the horric spew of such hateful smells directly as their sister. 

Row was horrified, disgusted and fascinated in equal measure. How did it burn. Gods it bruned and he wasn't even on the receiving end. He got the after effects like a second hand smoke.

Rowyn roared loudly apalled and also wondering.