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Loko stirred. Sobo felt it in the sudden jerk of the foot in his mouth, prompting him to latch down harder. There were no teeth there, but that didn't mean he couldn't exert some mild crushing force with his slick gums. Not enough for any sort of lasting damage, of course, but enough to hurt some.

It wasn't intentional, you understand. He couldn't hear Loko's squealed protests, nor did Sobo possess any sense of right or wrong. It was somewhat ironic that the older they got, the more this dynamic would flip around on its head, with Loko destined to be the one on top and Sobo, the submissive. Only time would tell where Merlin's two children might fit alongside Njord's. All four bore Erzulie's blood; all four would find ferocity in their own way, but Sobo, well, he was expending it all in these early days.

Abruptly, Loko's foot went far enough into Sobo's greedy gullet that the toes touched his uvula. The force of Sobo's gag made him rapidly recoil from Loko, chubby belly gurgling ominously while saliva filled his mouth. Two seconds later, he projectile vomited on his brother's backside.