Silver Creek The witching hour

Sorry it took me so long! Kidney stones had put me out of commission for the past week or so.

 

Mona Antha Mayfair, while she did no know it, was a fighter from the moment of birth. She breathed -- foreign breath filling her tiny lungs before she made a loud, discontented shriek. Blindly, she writhed and squirmed for supremacy over her first born brother, all in the name of survival. She knew not love or compassion, those things would come in time, yet instinctually, she knew of the life-giving milk from her mother's breast for which she vied for position as if there could only be one winner. 

She felt the warmth of her mother's touch and so Mona dragged herself toward the source with clumsy limbs. After an eternity of wriggling around, her muzzle met with a body. Her brother, Courtland. Mistaking his front paw for her mother's teat, Mona wrapped her gums around it and began to suckle in a misguided effort to feed.