Wapun Meadow neck twist like exorcist

for @Mira maybe? but AW!

The blackblood child wanders again. Instinct, up until now, had kept her alive; small insects and berries gave her sustenance while still much too young to hunt anything on her own. And even still, her stomach snarls with a growing feeling of desperation. Famished; absolutely famished.
She knew not where she was. The birds are quiet, for now, and some part of her misses their company. She snuffles at the crumpled leaves, scooping grubs with her tongue and swallowing whole. She did not miss her brothers, nor her mother. In fact, the quiet, the chill in the air, the emptiness; all of it was decidedly pleasant. Was she supposed to miss them? Or better yet, did she know how to? To her, they were merely sources of noise — the smell of hot milkbreath, the scraping of claws against her skin in the night.
And in her mind, they wither away until all that remains is a thin powder that once formed something skeletal. 

her children had found their legs, and her oldest daughter had begun to wander at times. mira allowed it- she would not coddle them, and wanted them to face the world boldly, but in was not in her interest to see their demise. and so she always followed, just after their trail, just out of sight. 

today athalia had found the meadow of flowers, and the shadow of her mother drifted behind. she watched the girl sniff hunter-like at the grasses. ksura kept the unusual family fed, and mira was beginning to get back on her feet too, contributing where she could increasingly often. but it was true, what her servant had said- the goats here were growing scarce, and the time was approaching to move her family to the west. her children were not unhealthy, but they could have more, and she wanted to give it to them. they needed a good diet rich with plenty of meat to build strength, she knew. 

when mira sees her daughter lick up something pathetically small from the ground, she shakes her head to herself. the dark wolf emerges from the grass to approach her kin, standing beside her, expression neutral.

should i start teaching you to hunt and kill, athalia? mother asks, though she doesn't expect a thorough answer quite yet, or even one at all- their language presently was mostly comprised of simple barks and whimpers, with an occasional babble of words mixed in. they were to be weaned off milk soon completely, and though it was doubtful that they could hunt for themselves, she knew it was never too early to start establishing the necessary skills.

Mother appears; the familiar voice sounds from behind her, earning a swivel of her head. It was as if she'd somehow manifested a meal! Hunt and kill? No, what was the use in that?
Athalia's greeting is a simple, wordless whuff; a staring match, at first, before she stumbles closer on stout limbs in search of a teat to latch onto. Her teeth poke and gnaw at skin until she finds purchase and she attempts to pull nutrients from the body of birthgiver, like an unrepentant leech.

her daughter turned, greeting her with a quiet woof. for a moment she only stared at her creator before approaching, seeking out mira's milk. 

the mother frowned, slightly. maybe she was hurrying them too much... or maybe it was good to keep them close to her, needing her. she wanted to find a balance- pawns who were strong, who could maim and tear as she needed them to, and yet who worshipped her, and would not question her goals. 

but either way, she knew the move needed to come, soon. 

mira laid down, sprawling out so athalia could feed better without reaching, even though the girl was growing fast. it will not be this easy to eat forever, she said, though she knew perhaps the words would not mean anything, yet. 

soon you will be eating only the meat me and ksura bring you, athalia, and then you will need to learn to help, once the time comes. 

she leaned down, craning her neck and nearly intending to lap down fur between athalia's ears, but remembered the girl did not often like to be bathed. she stopped, and pulled back. 

we are the true ostregas, and ostregas help eachother. your kind, loving mother feeds you and takes good care of you, so once you are stronger you will help feed me. it was good to start letting them know these things early. it was good for them to know that they were hers, and to her they ought to be ever so greatful. she really didn't need their help with feeding, moreso with other matters. but this was the simplest way to put it for now. she wasn't even sure how much her daughter understood yet, so the sentiments would be repeated often in the future.

i'm so sorry i'm so late omg i did not realize how long it'd been SOB

It was on this day that, for the first time ever, Athalia utters her first word, and it is: No!
Ostrega, Ostrega, Ostrega; she is an Ostrega, isn't she? Is that what this meant, this woozy feeling as she breaks away for air and hiccups out an exhale; this turn of her stomach as her tongue flicks away any excess from her chin?
She stares up at her mother with an unruly, fascinated gaze. She knows not the depth of what she implies, these things she is much too callous to comprehend. All she knows is that she will need to eat meat. Meat? She did not want that. Not yet; not yet, for the goo of innards was nothing in comparison to the sweetness of mother's hearth. Her lips pull back in a little smile, or something akin to it; and then, she chirrups in a wordless expression of defiance yet again.