twolegplace serial killer // nesting

NEVER REALLY UNDERSTOOD
THEY WAY YOU LAID YOUR EYES ON ME
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siltcloud & 20 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan exile
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With every day that passes, siltcloud finds it harder to move. To do anything really. From the aching weight of he pregnancy, to the inevitable hunger that gnaws her belly as the day pass and food grows even more scarce, the queen can hardly keep her strength. But still - there's much left to do.

The cold nips at her ears and nose as she shuffles along, soft pants filling the air before her with clouds, and every step takes twice as long. She cannot even stray far from the alleyways - no, she's already had one too many close calls, 'well intentioned' twolegs seeing her round bodied figure and giving chase. It's not something she's keen to repeat anytime soon. Nose sniffs - catching scent of her prize long before she sees it with searching sage eyes. A groan as she stretches neck beneath the bins, teeth snagging at the strange scrap of twoleg pelt and plastic. Once collected, it's all she can do to waddle back to her hiding space - finding fleeting security beneath the roots of a half-upturned tree.

The ground here is strange - the same white stone that paves the edges of the thunderpaths, that creeps along the surrounding walls. The roots have rendered it tattered and crumbled, and it's hardly the softest place to lay - but it will do. It has to. Pws work frantically, kneading and arranging the new additions into the pile she's already gathered ith quiet grunts, doing her best to ignore the rippling spasms of pain in her belly. It's not quite time yet - no, but soon.

She has to get ready.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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A N D S O I T S E E M S I B R O K E Y O U R H E A R T
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