Hushed Willows I've got three candidates for the zoo...

she spared them little glances as the days went by, silently listening to their heartbeats as they went about their business; drawing milk from her breast and snuffling about. the brood was a quiet trio, besides the common cry of bowel release that had once or twice reminded her she had more than one job to do; the children were repetitively calm. yet still, she refused to acknowledge them as her's. they had incubated within her, true, but never would they ever truly be her's by her will. they were her punishment, despite her transgressions having being done what seemed so long ago. how could she forget? weeks into their lives, and the small yet resentful woman had not even bothered to name them. perhaps it was not even the fact that her life would never return to it's former state, but the fact that the essence of Kierkegaard lived within each one, three more monsters mixed in with her failed genes. it was, in all ways, a complete and utter abomination and amara would not have it, them, smothering her life to the brink of extinction. she did not deserve it. they did not deserve it.

however presently, she lay in the same spot she had at their birth, on her side and limp within the dark corners of the hollowed out alcove of a den. they suckled on end, and she became exasperated rather quickly than she had before. her patience had grown thin within the last few nights, though now her underside had begun to ache; unfamiliar with the sensation of three ravenous beings chomping away at her for dear life. "go, get away," the woman scowled, nudging the brood away from her already swollen teats. they seemed to be constantly at her side, to the point where the only distance she could get was when she pried their sleeping forms away from her abdomen. such needy things, children were. she could have pushed them further, had Stark not have interrupted her current resentment session. 

frankly, she did not care who came to gaze upon the children as if they were a glorious creation sent from god himself; she knew that simply wasn't it. in any case, the woman felt no need to protect what wasn't her's, therefore the primaral maternal instinct had been decimated to almost null, following the very contemplation of ending her daughter's staggering life. as stark made himself known, she simply gave a nod of her head before slipping out and away from the den, leaving the care of children she did not want in the hands of a man she did not really know. the mother broke at a run.