FSE

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Vincent's gait was more powerful than Spades'. It was as if he wasn't shot at all. But it did highlight something that was now knocking at his mind. His hinds were on fire. Just brushing his tail was enough to get a response out of him. For once, he couldn't just ignore the soft bulbs between his legs, rubbing and tensing and sending shivers up his spine.

Part of him was glad Spades took most of this softer torture. The other part wondered if he'd have fared better then, if he hadn't had to fight for his humanity against the Drakehunter.

He looked up to either of the handlers leading him with the magical loop. They look like they've seen better days, not to mention the hell that the guy he saved went through. Something must be eating them. Figuratively.

The drakes beneath them were definitely affected by the absolute cloud that was a female in her estrus cycle. They really wanted to nip, and test, and try their luck. But the riders kept them looking forward. That was him they were smelling. Her, if he really wanted to drop all pretenses now. Who cared what he used to be? All of those people are dead, or long disappeared.

She huffed as she tried to put the old boy to rest. This was a female beast going into this hole- that was strangely very far away- anyways. She might as well think the same. She licked her chops. One paw in front of the other three. Stretch. Get the kinks out. Shake the tail- the males went wild smelling the heat after that. And she felt a breath go out that asked them the question.

Who's first?

The males reared a little, but were put back in line as they closed in on their destination. The pit.

She focused on the shapes, and from them she could see two chain winches, holding a sort of steel manhole. Except it was big enough to accept two drakes. She was led onto this plate, and held there while the lift was operated. She couldn't see from where, but it started up, something from underneath the plate dropped away, and the reins were taken off her muzzle.

She stayed. Like a good girl. She paced around the plate while it began to drop, looking up to Stankyleg and huffing in his direction. You're welcome, asshole! Sheesh, not even a goodbye.

She licked her chops again, then watched as the darkness unveiled. This pit was rather large. Like a coliseum. Supported on many sides by angled steel beams. There was no light in there, but she could just barely make out the shapes based on the gloomy sky's projection into the hole she was now descending.

The plate tilted, she scrabbled and tried to find purchase, but she was quickly dumped on something crunchy and old.

Frustration boiled, and she fought up onto her feet, barking up into the hole that was taking the plate back. In the last dim light, she saw what she was standing on.

Bones.

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The darkness was infinite, but it didn't matter. She could taste the air, the stale scents of estrus' past. The blood spilt, the emotions, the markings. This is a pit alright. Her claws clacking on old bones echoed, and through some deep connection Spades probably made, she could combine those echoes with her sense of smell to work out where not to stick her nose.

She took a deep breath, trying to shake off this building ache as she explored. First it was centered around her puffy hinds, but something new pressed on her belly and throat, like some big mean motherfucker was squeezing on either part. That's annoying. But it isn't anything to cry about yet.

Her ears flicked toward a sound then. Something liquid rushing down a tube. She went walking to find it, and against one of the struts keeping this hole underground, a pipe was set up to dispense water into a trough. That was smart of them. She has yet to find herself in any sort of suffering, but this whole setup certainly struck the final note of realization.

She's stuck in here until her suffering is over.

She continued onward, finding an old nest full of bones... And a few eggshells. That was certainly something she did not want to think about, so she passed and happened upon another, more clean nest. She nosed around it, finding all sorts of old musty fabrics. As if this one was smarter to make it comfortable. Huh... That's something she hasn't really given much thought to. So concerned was she with her own swap, she barely thought of the other drakes. She wondered what their blood will taste like.

Buh. She gulped. Keep it together. The choking and pressing isn't real, and the soreness in her ass is manageable. She decided to shake through her whole body, let loose. Then itch... Itching? That wasn't a thing. She never saw drakes itching themselves. It was like they were impervious to it. She felt an itch, though, and brushed upon a strut to start relieving it. Yeah, okay, itching now. That's fine. Not like that goes against everything she's felt before this.

But when she went too far and squeezed her rump, she felt the pressure of her hinds begging for release. It got worse? She thought Michael helped with that.

No, no, it's alright. Just be more careful.

Alright, she's thirsty now. Might as well re-route back to the water and dip in.

Ahh, that was relieving. For a moment. More... Oh, okay. She's thirsty. Very. Thirsty. She gulped and took a deep, cleansing breath. The itch returned. She sat, and her hinds cried for release. She dipped her muzzle into the water, and drank. But it wasn't enough.

Was it getting hot? How long has she been in here already? She looked up to where the plate came down. Only little bits of light shone through there. And she was underground. There was no way anything would be generating heat...

Except her. She dipped her mouth back into the water and held some in, trying to get the water to cleanse her building heat.

Now her ass itched again. And flexing her hinds only increased the ache. A twitch of her tail made her want to lift it all the way up... But also whack it against something.

She panted, eyes locked on nothing through the darkness. This is nothing. It's fine.

Then her stomach flipped from the disembodied clenching against her throat and stomach, forcing some of that water out. No, that's not fine. Then her nose started to itch. She rubbed it into the strut above the trough. Breathe, it's okay. It's okay. Just drink more.

Back into the water trough. She drank it all. All? All of it? But... But...

She was so thirsty. Her breath shuddered. Her first sound, a squeak of dismay. She nosed around the trough more. Water, please... Please. Water. Please?

She brushed herself against another strut, grabbing the itch before it started.

She moved the wrong way, and her teardrop responded with flaming ache.

Her stomach flipped again, but she kept the results in.

Her body steamed, shaking, needing something to cool, to ease.

And worst of all... There was no water.

Search for water.

Rub the itch away.

Need something.

Clench it down.

Run to cool.

Itch. Yearn. Stomach. Heat. Thirst.

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It's okay. It's fine. It's okay. It's fine. Follow the procedure. She can beat this. Push it all out. It's manageable. She was hyper aware now. Every little sound, every little scent, amplified by thousands, as she followed the routine. It's nothing. This is nothing.

How long had she been awake? Two more troughs of water were filled by now. Were those the days? She's been awake for three days already!?

She roared.

How did the time go? Where did it go? Is she too fast? Is it too slow?

No stop! Calm down, it's fine, follow the procedure! Itch, need, water, hold, cool. She shook and shuddered, bumping the trough. She can't knock it down. It's bolted into the strut. She started licking around it. Anything, please?

Please? Please?

She squealed and rubbed her face into the strut, then held her tail up, shuddering and letting her teardrop cool down.

A loud, intense growl started to barrel through her chest then. That stopped her stomach from lurching again. The procedure. Follow the procedure.

She bumped her head into the strut, rubbing against it and slamming her rump in next. Too hot. The metal strut was cool, but not for long while she was pressed up against it. She fought back another lurch with the growl, slowly quieting it down until it was a clicking. Her whole body was screaming for something. She knew what it was. She refused to think about it for so long. And now it was all crashing down on her. She was a hen. This is what hens do. There is something they need.

Just a little longer. What can she do to fight it off? Remember the good times. The humans. Humans... F- Faces, she can't see. Vibrations, yes. Shapes. Names!

Name! Name! She knows- She... No. There were no names. She seized up, she... Didn't know any names? No, that's not fair. What about hers?

She... Had no name? How could she... Forget that? She rubbed her neck into the strut

She needed her name... She needed...

She needed it. She needed wa- no, no more lying. Drakes. They were... The help. Her clicking intensified, watching the hole. It hadn't opened since she was dumped in. She stretched her back and trembled. She pressed her belly into the dirt and bones. She clawed at the skulls, crushing them. Her flesh was on fire. And they listen, they know. If she coos, they will come. If she calls, they will come. That's what- that's what... That's what she does. Call.

Her clicking got louder as she neared the hole. And she wailed.

Please?

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She called for hours. Days. Weeks. Months. Years. Lifetimes.

Come. Come. Come.

Please. Please. Please.

Call. Call. Call.

She squealed when the LOUD metal cracked loose, and hissed as the light hit her eyes. Hide! Loud, bright!

Something dropped in. Tumbled. She smelled it instantly.

Drake. Male. Small. Her clicking intensified, keeping the bad stomach down.

The small one scrambled up. He heard.

Come. Come. Please.

He was already ready. Then he made sound.

Hss, LOUD. The hen jumped to her feet, blood boiling and ears flicking back.

Quiet. Listen. Give.

The male got closer. And his stench was simultaneously intoxicating and infuriating.

She thought she could just fuck and be done. No, colts are insulting. He wants to make a show of this. His first fuck. He wanted her to dance.

Dance?

Her entire body twitched, her feet firmly planted. It scared him, but he wasn't going to back off. They were in the dark. It bolstered his courage.

Now she understood. Why killing them was common. It's because they were all insufferable. Dance. Dance he says.

Dance. Dancedancedancedance.

She lunged, her clicking turning into a flat roar, until she landed on him. Her teeth firmly planted in his shoulder. She bit. He squealed.

She bit harder, he squealed louder. LOUDER.

The shoulder ripped off not long after. And still he squealed, squirming and panting. Then he turned angry, and snapped at her, missing her nose. He tried. Oh, he so tried. Again and again, as she circled him and nipped him. But he was weak. Not good. Bad.

She lunged again, this time to end it quickly. And shut him the fuck up. He made one more pitiful sound, before his neck snapped.

Peace... She put a paw on his head, and ripped the neck out. Water...

She gorged herself on him. On it. On the food. Not worthy. Not male. She ate that too.

Once there was nothing but a few scraps, she was satisfied.

No she wasn't. She was too quick. Maybe force fuck. Yes.

Come. Come. Come.

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She paced at the edge of light. They'd dropped the plate, but nothing was on it. It took hours. She needed. She needed.

NEED. She barked up through the hole, snarling now joining her clicking.

Finally, in drops a bigger one. The hole closes. He fell a lot further than the last. She took in his scent.

Now that was fear. He knew why he was here. Her clicking became soft. She'll let him fuck. She'll make him fuck. Her teardrop demanded it. Her lips drooled as she took her sweet time sauntering to him.

Scared?

He scrambled up and backed off, blubbering fool. He couldn't make sense of anything.

She pressed up on him, her bare teeth pointed up to him from his chest. Her drool wet his scales. She needed it.

Give.

He froze, and her body acted of its own accord, sliding under his belly... And for the first time, she actually considered a stallion's piece as more than ornament or food.

Before she knew it forever as "help".

Her tongue snaked out and dug into the sheath. She tasted it for real, without blood. Musky. Information.

He was older, but his fear was saturating. She lapped again, and again. She learned more. Never fucked. Never touched. Clean. Virile.

She licked deeper, harder. She felt him stir. But that was it.

More. Try. Hard. Now. Give. Please. Now. Hard.

She almost bit, but he pulled away. His nose was at her flank. What!? No, she demands it. Not the male. She let out a breathy hiss that really put the fear to shame. He wasn't just afraid. He was dead. He persisted on her, nosing closer to her hot spot.

STOP. She barked, he stopped, and backed off. She turned on him, tongue flicking, eyes wild. Her teeth snapped.

He fucked up. Should've taken the offer.

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Come. Please. Come.

Two waters. Then the third drake. Cocky. Fought. Long fight. No fuck.

Three water

Fourth. Impotent. Fought. Almost died. Bad.

Four water

Fifth. Rude. Violent fight. Scars. Hurt.

Five water

Sixth. Boring. Eaten.

She was shouting now. Anything, anything, but not that. Not that. No, anything but that.

Her growls were airy, her senses sharp, and her tactics... Unbeatable. She was a monster. And she loved it. Bring more. Test them. Feed her.

She'd gotten rounder, stronger, as the days passed. Her hips wide with untreated desire, her belly swinging with the sustenance of her suitors. She barked at the hole to hurry and deposit the next one. To feed. To kill. But when she saw what had been delivered, the barking stopped.

The clicking of interested growls, and the sound of lips licked took its place.

This one did not tumble down. He stepped down. He crushed bone under his paw, and let it echo. Then more under the other. He was imposing, not massive. His air was one of absolute confidence. None before were his equal.

And she wanted to eat him.

Come, come.

Quiet.

He responded, and it shook her. Her eyes wide in response. She did not speak again. Her body yearned as that voice settled into her core.

He was approaching now. And their sizes became noticeable. He was just taller. Not impossible. Simply, bigger. Her shuddering head tilted upward, and he bent down to stuff his nose into her neck.

You?

He rumbled. She did not understand. He chuffed, opened his mouth and put her to the ground in one movement. Tactics did not matter when beasts cannot fight instinct. And his body was the very definition of "fuck". She smelled it, she saw it. She heard it, rippling and clacking with muscle and bone. Strong. Yes.

But he did not mount. He did not speak further. He merely turned her around, until he could lick a leg.

The leg. The one that hurt, a lifetime or a thousand lifetimes ago. She hissed and spat, squirming under the paw that kept her still. He licked again, this time around that leg, to her belly. Then down. She thrashed as his tongue met her agonizing teats. And he licked those. Over and over, until she no longer moved. Just shuddering, inconsistent breaths and shaking legs. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Then it stopped. He stopped. And backed up...

Seventh. TEASE.

She roared and squirrled onto her feet, launching herself at him, his neck.

Her entire world wiped left. He was fast. Ruthless. She hit the edge of a strut. Her back snapped.

But she snapped it back on recovering. Her response was vicious, loud, indignant. He did nothing but walk to her, and hit her again. He smelled of anger. Sadness. Anger. Pleasure. Anger. Need. Anger. Delight.

She was hurt now, but countered and went for his haunch. She couldn't touch him. His tail whipped forward and smacked her into the bones and dirt.

His scent calmed. She couldn't get up.

He didn't just want submission. He wanted domination.

His nose came down to sniff the female, and she swiped it. He responded by biting and throwing her back toward the trough.

He still offered nothing. Just silence. He was terror. He was worse. That wasn't fair.

She panted, her breathy growls echoing. She backed up on her burning ass as he approached. Can't touch. Can't win. So familiar.

His nose dropped again. She froze, teeth still bared. But he didn't hurt again. No, he brushed tight up into her neck. Licking. Rumbling.

She did not respond. That's okay. He bit into her neck, and threw her down again, a little softer this time. She stood up, defiantly. He licked her neck again, pushing his into her muzzle. No.

Thrown again. Licking. No.

Thrown. Lick. No.

Thrown. Lick. No.

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He took over everything. Water comes? He drinks first. Leaves little. She hated it. She bit and fought, but he remained. Seventh was worse. Seventh must die.

He was vigilant. Slept with her beneath him. Always watching. Spaced when necessary. He refused fuck. Refused. Refused. TEASE.

She was losing it. Not another break. Not another. Can't take it. No more breaks. She wailed from across the pit. He was drinking again.

This time he stopped, and went to brush his muzzle over hers. Water poured in from his lips. She froze for a moment before drinking it. She drank it. She drank from him. So... Satisfying. From him. His. Water. She suckled on his tongue, whining, needing. He pressed his neck along her muzzle. She shuddered, wailing a little quieter before, at last...

She broke. And licked. She licked his neck, nibbled, worked it up and down. That's when he finally rumbled in delight, and curled around to finally check his prize. He forced her tail up, snuffling around the thick haunches, finally dragging a long tongue over the long needing teardrop.

She couldn't make any other sound but a strained clicking. So... Unbelievably satisfying. Her tail curled on his neck. His tongue dropped down and started on her hardened teats, nudging and playing with his prize until her entire front end collapsed from the satisfaction of such strong and dominating affection.

Her eyes rolled, and she felt him brush his muzzle along her haunches. Then her back. His belly bumped against her tail. He was close, now. He was on top. His muzzle met her ear, he breathed, something satisfied... Just like her. His paws pressed down on her shoulders.

Drake.

He rumbled in her ear, pressing his nose in and licking. She let her head move on his push, she let her body react to every touch. And then she felt him press up. The heat of her backside met the softer warmth of his crotch.

Mine.

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That was the end, and the beginning. She fought, occasionally, but the more he pressed his neck into her muzzle, the more she licked, the more she lost any excuse to be unruly.

He fucked. When he wanted. When he dropped out of his sheath. She had no control over him. It infuriated her, but he was the only one so far to put it... in.

They'd just finished another one. She lost count. That was a lie, she never started counting. She shuddered and whimpered as he filled her again, standing proudly over his prize and stretching up, then falling over to pin her down and lay with her, foreleg over her shoulder to wrap her up nicely. Food had started dropping, every time the stud roared during fucking, or just whenever.

She'd started to coo at him not long after, recognizing him as her stud. The more he bred, the less she thought. His scents didn't have words associated with them anymore. She just knew how he felt. And he felt great.

Inside. Outside. Brushing on her, licking her. Her last attempt to take his life was half-hearted at best, and all he had to do to stop her was gently bite her neck.

Domination.

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She was on her side, in the nest tucked up next to the strut. Breathing heavily while her stud nosed and licked her belly. It'd started to show a little bump. And when he nosed away her leg, her teats were swelling too.

And she was docile. Tired. She ate what he brought, which was mostly everything. She drank the most, she was the one who took his every slap and fuck willingly. Not a single moment spared her her own will, her own desires. All that mattered in this darkness was the stud.

That alone doused half the liquid fire in her body, solidifying her new habits and thoughts.

She expected another fuck, and she was right. He was ruthless after all. When they were done rutting like beasts, she lay back down in the nest and basked in it. Every time.

She expected food, and she was right. He dropped corpses in front of her, and she ate it all without complaint. Every time. There was a lot of small prey for a while, but then the ones with no fur started showing up.

She expected... Nothing else.

So when the hole opened, snapped, and fell... She was roused out of her stupor and her anger boiled up to full again.

Loud. Intruder. Hiss.

In, tumbled a mess of anger and fear. It rolled in the air, hit the plate that might now be a permanent fixture of the pit, and split apart. It was loud. They were loud, so much that her stud was growling and took place in front of their nest. Light poured in from the hole, sounds from the outside soft and free.

But the entity that had dropped in... They continued to be loud. Vibrations, scuffling.

The stud calmed down, but still stood in front of his hen.

His hen, though, started clicking, and standing. Energy filling the thicker female.

It continued. They continued. It was two, fighting, growling at each other. One pushed the other off a pile of bones, rolling away from the stud and hen. The hen started walking around the strut to watch, as the anger approached the fear and lifted it. Then threw. Into the strut further from the pair of drakes.

More vibrations. The anger was loud, careless. The fear... The fear was quiet. Beaten. Submissive.

The hen jolted forward, for some reason. But her stud caught her by the neck and pinned her. Her clicking continued.

They traded vibrations, the tension building. Until the anger got loud again. It agitated the hen.

More beating. More metal clanking. She hissed. Another hit. Loud.

She bit the stud, and he barked, but she was already behind the anger. The darkness did well to hide her, even the fading light from the hole couldn't find the drive to reflect on her scales.

Her breathy growls returned. A word returned too.

Stop.

The anger froze, and turned. The vibrations it emitted were familiar, but not welcome. Her ears flicked.

"... well, well. Looks like your girlfriend is here to save you." It... said words. No, this was right, that's how it's supposed to sound. The fear was silent, but still breathing.

"Y'know, Mike, I thought it was weird ya'll spent so much time together, but when word 'round the farm started spreadin' that ya fucked her, it made a whole heap'a sense." The anger did not stop looking at the hen. He was loud. Annoying.

"You're just as much a beast as miss no-name over here."

"She's got a name," the fear vibrated low and quiet. Pleasing, soft. "Spades."

A snort burst from the hen.

The anger had a bit of a pause. Then laughed, until the hen made a move. She sauntered at the anger, head low and teeth bared. She'd had enough. Too loud.

The anger briefly flashed a different emotion as it jumped out of the way. The hen passed, and sniffed at the fear. It was bleeding.

"Awh look at that. Reunited at last. Don't kid yerself, Mike. There's nothing left in that beast. But hey, if you wanna stay down here and kiss, don't let me stop ya."

The anger started moving, keeping his attention on the hen. But he stopped, when the fear started fiddling with something.

A small, bright light and the sounds of burning. "Alright, Chief. See ya tomorrow."

"I doubt it."

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Human. That's what it was. She watched the other start climbing the chain.

The method these furless creatures were delivered was not like the food she'd been having. She didn't make the connection. But the blood was wafting up to her. That had a connection. It was familiar. It brought a feeling she wanted to avoid.

The fearful human breathed in, and smoke billowed out underneath her. Familiar. He brought the burning, crackling thing out of his mouth, and pressed it into the blood. He made no sound as it burned into his flesh. And he did it again, somewhere else. The smell of blood mixed with the smoke. And the hen felt it. She huffed when his head dropped, chin into his neck.

"Good to... kinda see you again." The vibrations were weak and quiet. She couldn't piece their meaning together, but the emotion was... Happy. Nice. Good. Still with that layer of fear. And pleasing.

He was shaking, and sucked on the burning thing again. Her nose went down to sniff it proper, and a hand came up to her chin. She flinched away.

"Right." The fearful one huffed, then did his best to work a cough through his sleeve, mimicking the airy growls of a hen in heat.

That made a sort of connection for her. She nudged him, snuffling and licking in spots. Not a hen, but here for a reason. Her jaw opened wide, and gently took him. He did not struggle.

She padded back to the nest, ignoring her stud, and dropping in with her catch. He, obviously, did not ignore her, and lay close.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you that gets to eat me." The human said. Still, she didn't understand. Why she was feeling a connection, why he kept whispering to her, why his hand kept coming to touch and rub. She simply licked him again, and lay her head close.

She couldn't see what the human was doing, but he moved. A little. The smell of blood became a little stronger.

"If ya ain't gonna do it now... At least wait till I'm asleep. Or dead." The human hummed. It was pleasant, nice. Soothing. She flicked her ear up. He couldn't see that. It was getting dark outside.

The sound of meat being squished and gushing started. The human letting out quick breaths. The blood was overwhelming for a moment.

Then metal clacked against metal. His flesh sizzled again. The meat squishing started. Stopped. Metal dropped on metal. Burning flesh.

Then the human sighed. They were close enough to the trough that he stuck a hand in. There was still water. He scooped some out and drank from his hand. Then rubbed it into the spots where his flesh burned.

What was the hen feeling? Worry.

Worry, the word popped into her head. Why? Why? Why?

Why worry? Why care?

Why does she care?

The hen's stud then nosed under her tail, and she forgot why. She and her stud were more important.

"Who is that?" The fearful human hummed. Then clicked his tongue. Her stud quickly listened- he was still trained after all. There was touching between the two males. And the fearful one groaned.

"Chief... What kind of fucking monster are you." He whispered, then dropped his hand.

The stud nudged the human first, then his hen. She took a little bit of coaxing to get up and moving. But soon they were on the other side of this section, against the opposite strut.

And he was licking up her rump, slowly peeling away all the worries and getting her back to propping her hinds up again. Without focus. Only one purpose.

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The stud kept it like this for a good while. Breeding her until she stayed in the new nest, away from the human... And placated. He doused her magma, with soothing liquid. Licked her. Cooed to her. She had no reason to worry. No cares. Just the stud.

Then, when he was sure she was nice and docile, he rose early one day. To take care of something.

"Ah. So it'll be you." The man coughed. "I figured. Spades was the one with soul. You never had one, did ya?" He chuckled. The stud drooled. "Only killed drakes 'cause you thought they didn't either. So it was fine. Avoided havin' to feel bad. Oh, but she showed you otherwise, huh? The hen that you're fuckin'?"

Mike breathed out a quiet laugh. The stud was savoring this. "Yeah. All you needed was an excuse to act like a beast. We gave it to ya, hook, line... Sinker. Now you're tryin' ta cover your tracks."

The man tilted his head though. And smiled. "You better hurry up."

The stud leaned in, his mouth wide, his drool landing on Mike's legs.

But a sharp pain in his tail snapped it shut, right in front of Mike's nose. "Oooh, looks like you ran out of time. Momma is pissed."

He was dragged back on violent tugs, the snarling and clicking coming from the hen just enough to make the stud question... What the fuck?

Stop! He tried to bark. But she didn't listen. She was frenzied. Angry. She almost knew why.

She stepped on him, crawling up his body, and before he could even make a sound, she was on his neck.

"Spades." Her jaw stopped, her eyes searching the darkness. She tasted the fear and the blood. "Don't do it." She tightened her hold, stopping the stud's squirming. "We'll teach him how to behave. We'll break him. How does that sound?" The voice was soothing. Familiar. It came from a place of warmth and love, but fear and regret too.

The stud let out a confused squeal. The hen's paws slammed on either side, holding the drake down while her muzzle lifted off him. "That's it. You're more than a beast. You're just hurt. Broken." Mike was practically singing. "Forget about the drakes. You did what you had to. Against men, and beast alike." He was still sitting where she'd left him. "For peace."

Why did she care?

For peace. To set things right. To be at ease. To understand. She stepped over the stud, driving his muzzle into the dirt with her hind leg first, and approached her favorite human. "There's my girl." Michael hummed. She lay next to him, rumbling, head on his lap. "Can I still call you Spades?" He asked. She didn't respond, instead huffing and keeping her attention on the stud.

"Mm, something else I said might be more appropriate." The man mused, then pet her neck. "It's alright. He'll learn."

He turned to the stud that was now rising out of the dust and bones. "He'll break."