Ankyra Sound bird food II

A strong sense of personality had begun to form within the child,
Confident brave and wild
But there was something more in the way they smiled,
Something unreconciled

Walking further from their mother's den than they had the day before,
They refused to let this morning be a bore
Eyes lifting they were met with a sight that should shake a child to their core,
A coyote washed ashore

Curious and almost puzzled they approached with a tilting head,
Provided their first chance to meet the unchewed dead
Sniffing and snuffling they knew that littermates would have fled,
But the wretch could only think 'the birds do need to be fed'

At times they wonder how a canine must taste,
For birds to be so eager that they leave no waste
Eyes flicking back they understand they must make haste,
Take a bite now so as to not be caught red-faced

Canine teeth newly grown,
They sink into a meal all their own

The girls grew as surely as her sons did, each day becoming something less recognizable to Marina. She could scarcely bear to think of them as her daughters. At times Marina caught herself thinking of them as changelings, feyspawn woven deftly into her own womb in the moments before birth.

Madness, surely. They were her children, though they were nothing like her. Yet she wondered.

Especially at times such as this. Marina was too tired to truly feel her horror; the barest sense of it washed over her and slipped away like a tide receding. She went to Lilimar quickly, nosing her child away from the carcass. No, no, Marina chided softly, almost lethargically. Not this. Only the fish, okay? We only eat the fish. She wondered distantly what sort of monsters she might have loosed into the world.

Hope you don’t mind if I join

A strange, even disconcerting scene that Ory had witnessed from a distance. A small creature, barely old enough to stomach meat, was hurling itself onto the briny carcass of a drowned dog. Ivory had known hunger—deep, aching hunger—but never had she considered consuming another canid. Among her kind, taking the life of a fellow creature was already a terrible crime, cloaked in heavy taboo. To eat one…?
Granted, it was only a coyote—but still, a cousin all the same.

The mother had arrived just in time to stop her child. A slight woman draped in a silver coat. There was something different about her—her scent, her bearing… an undefinable quality that Ivory Beaver could not quite put into words.
Yet still, her need for connection had drawn her nearer. She walked with purpose, but without haste, head low, eyes sharp with a predator’s gaze. She was stalking no one, and yet moved like a woman of the Hunting Ground.

Is that your child? Ivory asked, curiosity piqued, her nose lifted to the wind, seeking identity. A young male? A young female? She couldn’t tell.
And the so-called mother—on closer inspection—wore features Ivory could only describe as feral. The marks of something not quite lupine.

Mother came to push her away,
To keep their filthy temptations at bay
A shriek, a cry!
But the fuss did not last much longer than mother's sigh

It was in the midst of things that a stranger came,
Questioning if the wretch was someone mother would claim
Blank amber eyes stared with a burning focus,
At the one with fur like a white crocus

Happy to have you, even if Marina isn't! <3

Her lips slicked back from her teeth the instant she caught wind of the stranger. Marina gathered Lilimar close to her, jostling the pup a bit in her haste to bring the girl nearer. She hardly noticed. Her dark eyes were fixed on the pale wolf, no one she recognized by scent or by voice.

Mine, Marina snapped out, half in agreement and half in warning. What's it to you? Her teeth stayed bared, but she made no move toward the other wolf. She only watched, eyes tracing even the smallest movement.