Stone Circle how rare and beautiful it is to even exist

Things began to shift around him—strong, rhythmic pulses moved his tiny body along a path he had no idea had been there. It was a force he had no control over; he was just moved down and down until coldness seeped through to his lower half. The sensation was uncomfortable and unsettling, and his weak legs paddled against the soft sides of the fleshy force field that had encompassed him for as long as he could remember. Suddenly, another force clamped onto his tail and pulled. He writhed against the feeling but again, he had no control over anything that was happening currently. He was already stubborn, though, and so he tried his hardest to buck against whatever was pulling him farther into the cold. 

But he was helpless against it all. Soon the warm barrier around him was pulled away and he emitted soft, needy cries against the discomfort. Then he was flipped over on his back, his legs flapping against the icy air, his cries seeming to go unanswered. When he was flipped back over, he felt the hard surface beneath him suddenly disappear, and he cried out again until he was placed next to something warm. And then the sweetest, most inviting smell made him stop his complaining. The scent promised warmth and comfort, and he rooted around until he found the source. Ancient instinct guided him to open his mouth and latch on and then to drink in the life source provided by large figure who had dictated everything until this point. He drank until his belly was so full it might burst and then quickly fell asleep still attached. Any jostling or movement near him would only elicit a soft, unconscious squeak from then on. The only thing that would eventually wake him was the emptiness of his stomach hours later. Until then, he would be lost in slumber, already working on forgetting his alarming start to life.