Guro Challenge #12: Parasite
#3 of 33 Day Guro Challenge
"I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this." -Macbeth
The otter was taking to fish well, as otters did, but was not ready to live on it. Sawney had explained at knifepoint that his cub needed milk, and not the greensap kind; to be safe, mustelid milk. She had opened her mouth to refuse, and he moved the knife to point at Gruven.
Grissoul watched her feed the pups each day and took the otter away as soon as he finished suckling, keeping guard over him; pointlessly, Antigra thought. Of course she would not slay him. She was not the Taggerung. That would have to wait till Gruven had grown. Perhaps Sawney thought nursing him would help her accept him. He was wrong. Tagg peered up at her with innocent unfocused eyes and she hated the riverspawned brat all the more. Fat and sleek and shiny as a leech, he was, and was sucking away the tribe's sense like one too. How she wanted to crush him like one.
Otter pups grew large and fast. She had lost too much weight from him drinking it away, Gruven was thin from competing with him, and she always had a terrible thirst afterwards. The infants' teeth were coming in, tiny white needles, and blood started staining her dress, along with souring milk smudges on the inside and worse on the outside when their swaddling cloths leaked or they drank too fast and brought it back. The infants didn't seem to notice the blood in her milk. She bathed fully clothed in the river at least once daily, and ignored the taunts. Most vermin mothers didn't mind, but she would not have the stink of the riverdog on her for longer than necessary.
When Tagg cried, she soothed him and herself with a rhythmic murmur of "cuckoo, cuckoo", and he quieted and slept unknowingly. She found leeches in the river before Grissoul collected them, or plucked ticks from the pelts of others, and surreptitiously placed them on the otter's soft pawpads or in his ears, gleefully watching them grow as fat and flushed as he was as he whined and tried to wriggle free of his blanket to scratch. Perhaps it would weaken him, slow his growth; even if not it would keep her sane.
Grissoul slowly boiled fresh white fish over a low heat until it was soft enough for the infant otter. Antigra had no time after hunting for the chief's and otter's food and caring for her own pup, and nobeast to trust with watching either Gruven or a fire while she tended to the other. She tore up stale bread and sinewy birdflesh with her teeth, and sucked the resulting pieces into mulch. Gruven wailed, and she let her precious baby nuzzle her lips apart and feed.