Moonspear the devil at your door

Saviguk had been dozing contently, having just slipped into the outer reaches of sleep. Then the familiar comfort of his mother moved, and not in a way she had done before. He may be blind and deaf, but already the newborn had a sense of when something just wasn't quite right. And this was one of those times, likely his first. Hoisted up gently in unfamiliar jaws, the oil-black boy was jolted rudely awake. Stubby legs flailed, seeking purchase on a floor that was no longer there beneath him. His tender face scrunched, he let loose a pitiful little whine of protest, helpless.