Blackfeather Woods Ours is a cycle of hatred

He watched with a smile as the kids swarmed onto the heaps of meat he had spewed from his stomach. He licked his chops now and again to rid himself of the slight acidic taste and smell that permeated around his lips. He let them eat to their hearts content, unsure of when to step in. How was he supposed to know what was 'too much' for them? He supposed that was better for a mother or real father to know. He had just been tossed into this, not expecting to spend so much time caring for the kids.

It wasn't long that the shortnecked one had become a mess. Ganon's face twisted into a mix between a smile and a grimace, cringing at the sight of the meat slicked onto the boy's body, and smiling at the dopey words that babbled from his younger brother's mouth. His younger sister attempted to clean her brother. Aw jeez, kiddo, He smirked, but he unwilling to eat his own vomit. Instead, he grasped the boy — not by the nonexistent neck, but by his lower spine, between the boys front and rear limbs — and carried him over to the Glen's pool.