Sawtooth Spire dear god: thanks, if you loved me the vegetables would be extinct

once he peeled his clown shoe off her face, and was thoroughly horrified by the bullfrog-looking monstrosity that he’d created, she held herself still for the few moments it took for him to panic before springing back out from her pleated ruff like a jack-in-the-box, sounding her barbaric yawp over the treetops. it was more reproachful of his unmannerliness than a summons, but it wouldn’t hurt if reinforcements came parachuting down. remember the alamo?
fortunately for stag, the maimed squash returned to her standard, and don't go forgetting ferocious, form. no produce department employees would be hurling javelins at his back in vengeance of their valuable fruit. unfortunately for stag, once he took away her barrier, his new pet spider-monkey started in on him again, wriggling on her belly up to the gallery.
she paused at the ingress of the den, feeling a chill steal across her withers. it was either the sensation of stepping into an icebox that stopped her short, or instinct. either way and even so ...
she was not going to him, so he needed to come to her. what usually worked with the previous mom? oh, right. phaedra began huffing and puffing and the teacup rattled, until a piteous yarn of whimpers began seeping through the shifted lid. 
and oh, how that sound would amplify and travel until she had a nipple placed in her mouth.