Haunted Wood spite

Pulsations began to force the bundle of flesh forward, further and further away from the soft comfort that had been swaddling her for the past months. Blind and def, she felt her way through as the cold began to close in around her. The air was brutal and cold but not anything she couldn't get use to - it was the crushing feeling that emprisoned her within seconds that forced a cry from her mute lips. Soft through barely formed vocals, panic as the pain grew.

Then it was over. The sting pulsated, but the pressure finally subsided. Seeking for any form of comfort, the sweet smell of milk encouraged the little red bundle to crawl forward and latch onto where the smell was eminating from. Though for now she felt fine, even through the ordeal, the added pain of birth - she would hold true to her name. Conquest - and embrace the pain, conquer it and make it her own. The first of the appolcalypse puppies was here, and she would not soon be forgotten.