Verdigris Ravine (M) And wrens have begun to sing an old song in the mouth of your kettle.

In other circumstances, Towhee would’ve laughed at S’ari adding her own bodily fluids to the mix. But all she felt at the moment was abject panic. She could handle blood and pain; she’d miscarried before. But it was that smell that horrified her. It smelled like something had died… and it slowly dawned on her that something had, inside of her.

Oh fuck, she muttered even as S’ari recovered from her emesis and tried to usher her into the ravine.

A second coyote flanked her before either woman could move. Towhee took a step back, one of her hind paws sinking into her own blood in the sand. She hadn’t caught any of the words, though S’ari’s body language spoke loud and clear: she wanted to help. Her companion, however…

Even if I wasn’t expelling my putrefuckted insides, I’m not a threat, she gasped as a third pain sheared through her like a blade.

It brought with it another freshet of blood and a considerable amount of something Towhee could only identify as gore. If those had been pups, they certainly didn’t resemble such now. It was just a lump of bloodied, gnarled tissue that swamped her nose again with that rancid odor of decay.

After birthing that atrocity, Towhee sank to the ground. She didn’t feel woozy, so to speak, but her heart was still beating out of her chest. She definitely felt hot. Her tongue lolled from her mouth in a desperate pant as her eyes cut from one coyote face to the other.

Water, she begged.