Heron Lake Plateau [m] your hands can heal, your hands can bruise

She hunched over the strange shape that had slipped out of her and for a moment, couldn't function. Something inside of the sack moved, and as she watched it she let out a little gasp. There was no telling if she was reacting to the being inside or to the pain of further contractions; it didn't really matter — the sac perforated and a tiny paw - two, three of them, kicked free and a half-formed babe breathed a gasp. Its one, its only, its last.

Camilla felt another wave of pain and she staggered, accidentally stepping on the little creature that she'd borne; kicking it aside wasn't what she meant to do, but it rolled aside as she fought against her biology. No, no, no, it hurts — she couldn't form further words as the contractions deepened, and she grit her teeth, feeling another alien object slipping from her loins in to the grass.