Ankyra Sound bird food II

The girls grew as surely as her sons did, each day becoming something less recognizable to Marina. She could scarcely bear to think of them as her daughters. At times Marina caught herself thinking of them as changelings, feyspawn woven deftly into her own womb in the moments before birth.

Madness, surely. They were her children, though they were nothing like her. Yet she wondered.

Especially at times such as this. Marina was too tired to truly feel her horror; the barest sense of it washed over her and slipped away like a tide receding. She went to Lilimar quickly, nosing her child away from the carcass. No, no, Marina chided softly, almost lethargically. Not this. Only the fish, okay? We only eat the fish. She wondered distantly what sort of monsters she might have loosed into the world.