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"That's true," Bob agreed, and felt his ex-wife stiffen in his arms. He looked Monica in the eye, and saw her plea reflected in her irises. "What? You... daughter may be sponsor-track, but she still has to learn how to create babies." She's still my baby," she muttered into his ear. "I'm uncomfortable enough with her just lying naked next to me."In response, Samantha hugged her mother spoon-like, her tiny breasts digging into the older woman's back. It wasn't uncomfortable physically, but it was. At your return the Feeders rocket off towards the campgrounds, fifty pale figures fly overhead the gusts of air tossing your hair. Black streaks paint the sky, shrieks echoing into the night, the Feeding has begun. The Feedlings fly low, and lethal, bombarding the ground below with glyphs of Hate, crackling blasts of pure malice tearing the Keshemi into little more than chunks of meat and bone to be gnawed upon later, some grab people by their arms, bringing them high into the sky until letting. More

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