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They were hungry, so the wolf-women wrapped each twin in old sheepskin and presented them to the mother. Shimmy Kate felt the weight on her belly, but that was it. Maternal she was not. An old she-wolf stimulated her teats with a bit of grease. Shimmy Kate didn't care. She just stared.
Each baby weighed about four and a half pounds... small for humans, but big for wolves. And they didn't look 'wolfie' at all... No muzzles... No fur... although wolf-folk cubs are only born with a light pearl-gray down. Their eyes were closed. Their fists were clenched. They yawned and they trembled. Each had a tiny bump... no more than a bug bite... at the base of the spine. Maybe later there'd be a little tail... And maybe not.
Their sire was pleased. High caste... He wanted 'high caste.' And he got it. But they had to feed. She had to nurse. Shimmy Kate had to play 'mama.' So he picked up the twins, placing each on a breast. Remus locked on first and the mama-woman did bleed just a little bit. Lupine newborns are born with teeth, even 'high caste.' When Romulus heard the contented mewing he latched on too. After a few heartbeats the mama seemed a little bit interested. The wolf-folk liked that. She'd come along. Might not be no big love affair between her and that alpha, but she'd settle in. They were her babies... and that's a whole other thing all together.
So in a deep, dark cave ('cept for a few fat, sputtering, wolf-folk candles) a strange clan welcomed new members. Outside, along the banks of nameless, shadowy waterways, isolated piroques made the rounds. Them gator boys like those hides, you know. Buys 'em drink. Buys 'em cigs. Makes 'em fat.... Wolf-folk like 'em that way.
Shimmy Kate (she the mama) commence to singin' a little song. She go - I got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart... It the only 'churchie' song she know. An' considerin' the occasion it like a baptism too. When it done she croon 'Happy Birthday,' 'cause in a very real way, that what it is.
But Romulus and Remus don't care. They eatin'. An' if you stick your head in close and look, she ain't even bleedin' much no more...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
look for more strange tales. click ~>PIXILATED PARANORMAL STUFF ... or join me on TWITTER. click on ~> THIS WHERE BILLY KRAVITZ IS ON TWITTER ... hey, you gonna leave any COMMENTS or what?
Each baby weighed about four and a half pounds... small for humans, but big for wolves. And they didn't look 'wolfie' at all... No muzzles... No fur... although wolf-folk cubs are only born with a light pearl-gray down. Their eyes were closed. Their fists were clenched. They yawned and they trembled. Each had a tiny bump... no more than a bug bite... at the base of the spine. Maybe later there'd be a little tail... And maybe not.
Their sire was pleased. High caste... He wanted 'high caste.' And he got it. But they had to feed. She had to nurse. Shimmy Kate had to play 'mama.' So he picked up the twins, placing each on a breast. Remus locked on first and the mama-woman did bleed just a little bit. Lupine newborns are born with teeth, even 'high caste.' When Romulus heard the contented mewing he latched on too. After a few heartbeats the mama seemed a little bit interested. The wolf-folk liked that. She'd come along. Might not be no big love affair between her and that alpha, but she'd settle in. They were her babies... and that's a whole other thing all together.
So in a deep, dark cave ('cept for a few fat, sputtering, wolf-folk candles) a strange clan welcomed new members. Outside, along the banks of nameless, shadowy waterways, isolated piroques made the rounds. Them gator boys like those hides, you know. Buys 'em drink. Buys 'em cigs. Makes 'em fat.... Wolf-folk like 'em that way.
Shimmy Kate (she the mama) commence to singin' a little song. She go - I got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart... It the only 'churchie' song she know. An' considerin' the occasion it like a baptism too. When it done she croon 'Happy Birthday,' 'cause in a very real way, that what it is.
But Romulus and Remus don't care. They eatin'. An' if you stick your head in close and look, she ain't even bleedin' much no more...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
look for more strange tales. click ~>PIXILATED PARANORMAL STUFF ... or join me on TWITTER. click on ~> THIS WHERE BILLY KRAVITZ IS ON TWITTER ... hey, you gonna leave any COMMENTS or what?
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