HAHAHAHA-no.

Another lifetime ago, I had volunteered at a special education unit. High school required something in order to graduate, and helping out a teacher for developmentally handicapped pre-K at least felt altruistic and relatively easy. Honestly, good practice in patience and empathy. Fondest memories of it are letting a kid practice their reading by listening to them try and read to me.

To use some education terminology, I dealt with cognitively disabled, not emotionally and behaviorally disabled. In other words, they were merely very dumb, but otherwise normal-as opposed to acting fundamentally inhumanly. Frankly, rather glad-those units tended to be filled with 'defiant for the take of defiance', 'inexplicably violent', and similar. Not sure how they manage to maintain teachers there.

That is a background to say: I have not a single bit of experience preparing me for the hell starting to break loose. I had hoped they would have the same kind of thoughts I had-that their complementary needs and talents could come together to form a functional unit. One could dig tunnels, one designed burrows, one needed shade, all needed food-putting their heads together, they had everything they needed.

What instead happened, is that the infighting began practically as soon as they all had grown enough to take action. The insectile aberrations were solitary-they wouldn't even work together with each other to make one cave system, much less other species. And they fight to drive off anyone attempting to move in to 'their' turf. The kobolds and myconid seemed to stick with their own kind, distrustful of all others. The harpies hadn't hatched yet-so no telling on them. The holstaurus seemed pretty alright though. And all seemed to regard my very existence like some background element-just a part of the landscape.

While I was hoping to not have to micromanage, looks like I'll need in order to set up something approximating a command structure. Setting my breeding goblins aside to their bovine daughters' care for the moment, I wormed myself up in order to take on the tunnelers, reaching in to drag them out one by one. I didn't need to get all of them-just enough that the rest would fall in line. Of course, they fought, slashed at me with the same claws that burrowed through the ground-but they were nothing before me. Dangling them a dozen feet up like they were toys and squeezing down until the pressure grew intensely uncomfortable on their shell got the message across: I could crush them if I wanted to, so they'll do what I say. And I say: work with the smol lizards to make a place where both of you your numerous half-siblings can at least rest and start their fungal farming.

Me not wanting to have to repeat this every day until I could finally unleash them, I put down another ultimatum: for them to designate leaders among themselves, who would be the main ones to give orders to the rest, and bring issues to me. How they organize beyond that is not my care. Naturally, with little information beyond their appearance, hours later, I got a representative from each based mostly on physical traits. Naturally, the largest aberration was presented to me, while the other two chose slightly more esoteric methods. As far as I could tell, the kobolds went with thickest thighs, while the many myconids choose the most impressive cap among them. Whatever-as long as they'll follow so I can remain rooted in a good spot, they can choose their own representative by interpretive dance competitions for all care.

With some vague semblance of order established, I returned and picked my breeders back up-enjoying a quick squeeze around some milky mammaries before settling down. A warm, comfy feeling spread through me-seeing my burgeoning army cowered before me Brought me more satisfaction than I thought it would. At least, that's what I thought it was at first-but the feeling just kept growing, intensifying until it goes from comfortable to overwhelming-like my body is burning with extra energy.