Darkness. It smelled of, defecation, piss, and milk. Soft purring and whines fusses were all she heard in the dark. A few males were supposed to come and stud them today. It was the season for all of them. Except for her.

Whenever there was food or the males were brought through the membranes she would see the snow patterns emerging through her blue fur. She knew was near to age to stop baring.

There was enough instinct yet to preserve the older kesit. She took whatever male came and whenever it was time to eat would pretend to nurse a different babe.

When she had first done this the other mother hissed snapped and struck at her. She established her dominance then. Now there were no complaints whenever she took to a child.

Now the males were supposed to come. She held some other babe and it suckled on her dry breasts. Perhaps this would be the day the bugs would harvest her. There wasn't any purpose left for her.

* * *

Her eye still strained at the difference in light. Unlike the den, she'd been in, this cave had holes perforating the top half of the roof. It was cooler too.

Some of the young kits were shivering. It was too hard to hold a full litter together for warmth. Other females helped to carry what they could. She did as well, after all, she was dominant.

A whining keen could be heard from some of the mothers. The males had come. It was later than the bugs had ever been, and there were more. There had been so many males as to not count them. At first, rather than opening at the dauver's touch the membrane of the chamber was ripped. Then one arrived, and then there were many. So many males as to not be counted.

They had organs and tissues and blood and lust in their eyes. She had attempted, and for some time fought off 2 or 3 of the crazed kesit. It was only for some time though.

Many of the other females were dragged off hissing and kicking. All that she guarded were the pregnant and the broken. So many bite marks and scratches marred their coats, but she was alpha, and she would protect the few.

* * *

Four younger kesit followed behind another taller kesit. The slits of his pupils were white. They staggered, and stank of something, distinct. Something sweet that had a draw.

The alpha saw them and growled to warn off the females from the sick males. They didn't listen even as she grabbed at their ears and nipped at them. The blind sick one held something in his hand and fed it to the first kesit to approach him. She began shaking and frothing at the mouth before she collapsed.

She was dominant and must stop them. The females still didn't heed her more desperate calls and prompting. This was danger. Two of the four that had been following the blind one grabbed her arms. When had they gotten there?

She tasted that metallic tang of blood as she thrashed and bit at the hand trying to force the poison on her. Another set of hands grabbed and forced her jaws. Blood ran down where her lips were pushed against her teeth.

Bitter, sweet, bloody. It was fibrous and she choked as it was pushed into the back of her mouth. They would try to force her to submit, but she would not. They would force her to take on their poison, she would not. She would be alpha for both males and females.

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* * *

Flavors wrapped itself around her tongue. They twisted and they seared. Burning turned to shades and shapes, tracers followed the colors climbing through her blood. They spun through her eyes into her retinas and contracted. She was like the blind male.

Fumes rose from her gut stinging her nose. She could see them as they wafted around her. They were soft blues oranges and pinks. Mists stroked her fur comforting her.

'Calm', whispered from around her. The sense was a lie that bit into her ears.

Enraged she struck out her hand was freed from the dark. Traces of light followed her fingers. She felt but could not see as the kesit crawled. Rage sought after the kesit who did this to her. Tips touched fur.

Young. The kit felt himself climbing up a tree. He was brave and determined not to be scared of the bugs. They never harmed any of the young ones after all. Eyes opened to his brother 32 clicks coughing.

The female's fingers saw the screams and the blood. She saw the skin flayed and bones crushed. She felt herself grow and snap any other beast when they got close to his food. He would shove and feel. Fur brushed fur. She was in the throes of lust, of labor.

Another touch. She felt nothing, she was nothing, her mother's body sat on his shoulder as he carried him away to skin him.

It continued, she was every one of her kind. She was kesit and felt their pleasures and their pains.

Falling, blind once more. Her heals dragged, toes and finger grasped looking for any surface to latch onto. She caught, but arms ripped and fell. Bones, blood, and dirt built up the walls. They crawled all over her flesh legs sticking pricking covering her with the grey paste. She was still falling, but she held on. Forwards and backward. The bugs still dug into her, buried her. Higher. She could not breathe. The walls were around her. Her skin was the paste as the bugs scurried building her, molding and making her to their purpose. Mandibles finally reached her eyes and dug beneath them.

Nothing. There was nothing. She did not exist in this void.

A sound. It was like stones tumbling. Hazel eyes, strange and round, but soft and kind. It was a boy, but he had no fur. He was playing with stones. Each had 6 colorful sides and were stacked one upon the other. The boy saw her. His eyes were surprise and a kind of feeling, an excitement, a dream, a hope. Young legs ran to wrap his arm around her. Desperate, longing, hurt, alone. She knew him.

His touch burned and seared her. There was no touch. He was playing with the stones again. The blocks were stacked higher, water rose up as he built. The boy stood and turned towards her once more. His nose protruded from his face, it was dull and expressionless. But his eyes were so strange, and they leaked out water. The kesit felt the warmth push up beneath her lids. Her fur damped up. She stepped out to him. She could never reach them. He could never touch them.

A sound. It was like stones tumbling. It was a boy, but he had no fur. He stood before piles of stone and wept. There was fury on his face as one after the other they turned to grey steaming dust. There were many, but they could not stop they must. The kesit needed to stop the boy, but again she could never reach him.

A sound. It was a boy screaming, furious. He kicked out. Stone scattered. The world shook. She flew from the force of his blow, and then forgot the strange hairless boy.

* * *

Beyha awoke from the memories. She knew they were memories, but they were incomplete. It had been what should have been near a seasons since 16 had poisoned her with that 'sacred herb'.

Her stomach rumbled with the shadows of lightning. Rations had already been stretched. It had been too long, and still her body still ached and eyes still saw traces of light when she moved too fast. Beyha's dream still chased after her. It had been too long that they waited here in this dead shell.

Clouds still roiled with the wrath of the ice and winds. Water still chopped, and only a rare echo of the sun could be seen in this dark.

The Kesit had taken the hive and ensured all Dauver slain. The kesit had ensured that every hall had been checked, every shadow, pit and vent that could be searched on this isle had been.

Those monsters were gone. She hid what females she could from the others. It was a large enough isle, and so long as she pacified the shaman with the needs of the Kin she could bartered for provisions. Yes they must survive, but she would not let the females be prey yet again.

That blind and poisonous kesit held himself and his revelations over them. She saw how he controlled them with the herb and promises of power and freedom. He'd just as soon let them all starve here. There was little else on this storm-wrecked bit of land. That kesit, may dream and feel, but a beast is just a beast.