penchant for trouble

Begging was met with anguished apologies. What? Was there nothing left in that lithe body that could not feed her? Having whet her palette with meat, it was understandable why Jökull wanted more. But what she did not understand was that there was a limit; always a definitive, frustrating cap on how much an adult could store in their stomach.

Jökull thought all meat originated from some incomprehensible, reverse black hole inside of her uppers. She still does, actually. Leaf was...withholding for some odd reason.

When the pixie reclined theatrically onto her back, Jökull connected the dots: Leaf did not want to throw-up anymore. Instead, she wanted the Sveijarn to nurse upon her. Not one to decline, Jökull answered the imp's proposition; straggling over to that adolescent body and poking and prodding her midsection. Leaf was positioned in such a way so as to not receive her, but to make it exceedingly difficult to find anything to grab onto. Let alone a teat.

Growing frustrated, Jökull began to whine...No, that's not right. A more appropriate term would be “bitch.” Speaking some baby babble about adults and their hidden nipples. “Hrngh! Hrnuff nuff...Dway nata!” Blast! Where is a nipple! But Leaf was not one to let her feed so easily, rolling over onto her front just as quickly as Jökull went about poking her midriff. The Sveijarn let out an indignant snort. If Leaf would not let her suckle, mama will! Turning around, she marched back into the den with all the grace of a peg legged cripple. I prefer mommy's milk anyway!

- EXIT -