Murmurs and hushed voices permeated the crowd that had gathered around the granite altar. The massive stone was carved almost like a throne: the back was high and sloped at a low angle, like a hammock, and the sides sloped downwards at a comfortable angle for armrests. The front was odd – If the altar was meant to be sat on, it was meant to be sat on with legs apart. The front was higher than the sides, with a bowl-like dip in the very front, as if it was meant to collect or display something. The entire stone was very low to the ground, only three feet high at most.

	None among the black-horned Cervida knew who carved the stone. The Cervida themselves lacked the know-how to carve a stone that large or that smooth, and each elder had their own story. Old Snap-Horn said that the first elder saw the significance of the stone and built the tribe around it, the smoothness and refinement coming from centuries of continued use. Zulalu the Wary said that it was once the throne of the goddess of bounty Herself, and that even the slightest misuse would bring misfortune and drought upon the entire tribe.

	The current elder, Mundunugu the Blessed, had his own interpretation of events: he said that the stone had fallen to the ground from the heavens themselves. He decreed that all prayers whispered to the stone would be answered, every union consummated in its presence would be fruitful beyond imagining, and every life that began in it's stoic embrace would be forever blessed, just like Mundunugu himself. After all, that's where his own life began – and every new life since.

	Mundunugu, like the rest of his tribe, had a tall, almost androgynous figure. His slender body was largely enrobed in a thin coat of fur the colour of dead grass. His flat torso and lean belly were pale white, and a vibrant stripe of black trailed down each of his sides, running down his inner legs and effectively framing his exposed buttocks. Twin lance-like horns jutted out from the back of his angular, deer-like head, adding almost a full two feet to his height. He would have been quite imposing if the rest of his tribe didn't have similar features. He dressed in the most ceremonial attire, which was to say, he was hardly dressed at all. Unlike most most tribes, the Cervida's rites and rituals often involved disrobing more often than they involved elaborate and symbolic costumes. To them, there was nothing more sacred than the naked body.

	The current attire of the elder consisted of a sinew belt with an elaborate string of beads clattering against his left hip. More straps of sinew held an elephant tusk firmly against each arm, imbuing him with touch of the largest land mammal's legendary wisdom and longevity. A second string of ivory beads was woven between his tall horns like a gaudy spider's web, clicking and clattering with each subtle bob of his head.

	The crowd parted as he strode confidently towards the altar, his member unabashedly unsheathed and erect, a proud display of masculinity and virility, although he had ironically fathered no fawns of his own. Beside him walked his constant companion, a feral hyena named Denaar. Denaar was unmuzzled and unrestrained, the beast's eyes firmly set on the altar. Denaar was a bit of an enigma; no one in the tribe could say with certainty whether the elder's 'pet' was male or female. It certainly looked male to a passing glance, but so did every other hyena. Only Mundunugu knew for certain, and he was decidedly mute on the subject, neither confirming nor denying speculation from either side. It was a secret both of them would take into the Great Beyond.

	At present, the altar was occupied by a Cervida female, heavy with fawn. She was reclined with her slender legs spread wide, the bowl-like impression directly in front of her exposed groin. The only semblance of clothing on her entire body was a bulky rope of wildebeest horns placed around her neck in hopes that she might gain some of the beast's endurance and stamina. Behind her stood her mate, one of the Cervida's most decorated hunters. He wore a leather sash around his shoulder, cleanly stitched to the pelt of a cheetah that hung over his back like a cape. He held his mate's hands, whispering encouragement into her large ears.

	“He's coming,” her mate whispered, “That means the end is in sight.”

	The crowed bowed low, their hands extended in hopes of caressing their elder's virility as he passed by. Not only was this a powerful sign of respect and subservience, but it also kept him hard as he reached the altar – not that he needed much help.

	“Why has Mundunugu been summoned?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. The trio had been speaking about the matter for months.

	“Ashari is fawning, your grace,” the male answered, referring to his mate, “She wishes for her birth canal to be blessed by the elder of her tribe, so that her fawns will be born safely and welcomed into the Great Beyond.”

	Mundunugu nodded, turning to Ashari herself. “Does your mate speak truly?”

	Ashari could only nod, still panting as she tried to breathe her way through a particularly gruelling contraction. “He does,” she winced, “I wish – hooph – I wish for my fawns to be blessed before they enter the world, so that they may be assured a place among their ancestors when they depart!”

	“So it shall be,” the elder replied, nodding again. The fact that she referred to her fawns in the plural didn't phase the elder in the slightest. Twins were common amongst the Cervida if the winter was mild and the harvest was plentiful. Mundunugu leaned in, his holy phallus rocking gently against Ashari's quivering body. 

	“H-hurry, elder,” Ashari insisted, “The contractions are getting stronger!”

	Thankfully, the elder was merciful. He eased her pain by sliding his slender, cervine cock inside her bulging nether lips. Both Ashari and her mate reacted immediately, the former gasping in ecstasy while the latter winced, unsure whether or not he liked the sight of his mate being penetrated by another male. He had to remind himself that this was normal, that the elder got to every female eventually, and it wasn't like his own genes weren't already being passed on. There was nothing for him to be worried about!

	The elder's first thrust was answered by a sudden gush between Ashari's legs. Cheers erupted from the gathered audience. As anticipated, Mundunugu's long, cervine phallus had pierced her bag of waters, filling the bowl-like divot in the alter with strong-smelling liquid. 

	“Her waters are clear,” her mate announced with palpable relief. Sighs and scattered applause could be heard throughout the gathered tribe.

	Mundunugu was deaf to all that. This part of the ritual required the most focus for him: He was not allowed to 'bless' the birth until he could feel the tip of the newborn's head against his member, but once he felt it, he had to promptly deliver his blessings before the head was visible. Sometimes he only had minutes to prepare, other times he had to wait for hours. He took a deep breath as a powerful contraction wracked Ashari's body, forcing her to clamp down around him. The elder pushed back, pressing his palms against the top of her midsection and forcing himself inside her up to the hilt. 

	“Good,” he encouraged, “Push just like that! Push me out if you can!” 

	Ashari nodded with a grunt. She was incredibly tempted to just ride it out, and let the friction of her elder's holy shaft do the work for her, but her body wasn't giving her that choice. She felt like she was being forced to push, whether she wanted to or not.

	“But I want to keep you in me, elder!” she protested, “I want you to bless my birth canal with your sacred seed!”

	“And I shall,” came the calm reply, “In due time. But for now, you need to push.”

	Ashari grimaced and begrudgingly obeyed, pushing her long nose down to her chest. The elder's effort seemed tied to hers – when she pushed, his hips rolled faster and faster. When she rested, his pace slowed to a crawl, and his movements were barely perceptible. Denaar was restless, orbiting the elder's legs before suddenly jumping onto the altar. The hyena's rounded muzzle dipped into the translucent fluid between the elder's legs and began to eagerly lap it up. 

	Denaar's duty may have been less glamourous than the elder's, but it was no less important. Denaar's task was to clean – to eliminate all traces of the ceremony before predators or other tribes descended. The hyena fulfilled its role with visible relish, dipping its head into the stone bowl and quenching its thirst over the course of several minutes between breaks of frantic circling and chittering.
 
	It seemed Denaar knew something was happening before anyone else. As soon as Ashari bleated out her next contraction, the hyena became visibly agitated, barking and baying, rubbing against its master's leg and snapping at the empty air. Mundunugu's eyes lit up in surprise as something warm and slippery quickly began to push against the tip of his member.

	“Ohh!” The male gasped as the slick object pushed past the tip of his member, suddenly pushing him hard against the top of Ashari's birth canal. He worked quickly, picking up the pace and pushing himself over the edge with a series of quick thrusts as deep as he could muster without getting crushed against the fawn's head. In a matter of seconds Mundunugu was able to properly administer his blessing to Ashari's birth canal ahead of her first fawn, his sacred seed splattering the inside of her sensitive passage, consecrating it with only moments to spare. Ashari groaned blissfully.  The head suddenly slipped free of its cervical confines, aided by the elder's generously-supplied lubricant. 

	“The deed is done,” Mundunugu announced, “Now push, Ashari! 

	The blissful, ecstatic groans quickly turned to shaky bleats as the laboring female pushed the elder completely out from between her legs. The little black nose of her first fawn was visible only seconds later. Denaar's head suddenly forced its way between the two eagerly, the hyena nosing between Ashari's legs. Mundunugu pushed Denaar away. This was one part of the rite that Ashari would need to face alone, not even the hyena was allowed to touch her.

	“Keep pushing,” the elder encouraged, “I can see the nose . . . the muzzle . . . almost there . . .” The newborn's sleek muzzle came easily and quickly, up until the little jawline popped out with a damp squish. The forehead was speckled with translucent gobs of ejaculate. Mundunugu was so tempted to pull the fawn now and move on with the rite, but he knew he had to wait. And so did Denaar.

	“Breathe,” Ashari's mate reminded her, “One more push, and it'll be done!” The female nodded breathlessly, taking advantage of an all-too-brief respite before another contraction surged through her body. She let out a primal, bleating cry, joined only seconds later by the hearty wail of her firstborn fawn. The small, dark form had landed in the bowl-like part of the Throne, as expected. It stretched out its arms and legs, eager to explore this new, unfamiliar space.

	Denaar was eager to explore as well. Without pause, the hyena leaped up upon the Throne and began to vigorously lick the newborn, obscuring it from view almost completely. Murmurs wove through the crowd. It was rare that Denaar was so enthralled with a new arrival. Surely this must be some sort of sign! Would this be their next elder? They didn't even know whether it was a buck or a doe yet! Speculation ran wild.

	“It's a buck,” one said, “It has to be!”

	“No, it's a doe – I bet the hyena's getting ready to mate her right now!

	“But how can that be? Isn't Denaar a female as well? No male would get that attached to another male!”

	On and on they went. Meanwhile, Mundunugu just watched, giving Ashari and her mate a knowing wink as Denaar chewed through the umbilical cord. The hyena's tongue scoured the little shivering body, licking the elder's seed off its head before running over its neck, its chest . . . and it's tiny, immature sac. Denaar seemed to pay particular attention to the newborn's groin, the hyena's tongue running up and down the buck's twitching, immature length and under his smooth little scrotum just like Mundunugu had trained it to do. Within seconds, the little tiny buck had a proud erection of his own, and the elder lifted him up under the arms for all to see. 

	“A new buck!” he proclaimed, “And already he has a clear lust for life! Let it never fade! Congratulations, Ashari,” he said quietly, placing the newborn face-down on his mother's midsection. Even then, Denaar simply refused to leave the little boy alone. The hyena's tongue assaulted his twitching member and swiped feverishly under his little matted tail. Mundunugu simply let his pet take what it wanted, and lifted the little fawn's leg to allow easier access to his genitals. It wasn't long before the little legs suddenly curled up and kicked outwards, the tiny unsheathed member twitching violently before abruptly settling again. 

	“What Denaar wants,” Mundunugu smiled, “Denaar takes. Your son will make a fine handler, even before he comes of age. You both should be very proud.”

	The mated pair embraced, the male hugging both his exhausted mate and his newborn son in his strong, sturdy arms. However, the rite was not finished – there was another fawn to be born yet. Ashari hadn't even stopped pushing – the contractions were stacked up tightly enough that they seemed almost constant. 

	“It's coming!” Ashira grimaced, leaning into her mate and gripping his arm tightly. 

	“Already?” Mundunugu blustered. He kept a hand on the newborn fawn's back, keeping him latched on instead of slipping off. 

	“Elder,” she whined, “I'm pushing again . . .I have to push again!” Once more, Mundunugu put his hands behind his back, forcing himself to keep from interfering as the head of the second fawn barrelled into view between Ashari's legs. 

	But then it stopped. Ashari whimpered, visibly pushing with no palpable effect. With no choice, the elder grabbed the head of the fawn firmly and gently rotated it to one side. It practically exploded into his arms as soon as the shoulders were free. Ashari grunted, looking quite deflated after the birth of her two fawns. 

	“A girl,” Mundunugu announced, looking at the matted, curled-up form in the stone bowl. Her movements were ponderously slow, but a quick inspection revealed a proud, thunderous heart inside her unassuming chest. “And a stoic one. She needs more than her mother's milk to rouse her,” he began, lifting the little doe-fawn to her father, “She needs the milk of a warrior to make her strong. She needs the milk of her father.”

	Ashari's mate blinked. “My milk?” he parroted. The elder nodded.

	“Just let her suckle between your legs,” Mundunugu instructed, placing the newborn reverently on her mother's belly, her head lined up with her father's exposed shaft as the two males stood on either side of her. The elder reached over to coax the shy male's arousal forth with a soft caress. Ashari giggled, gently inching the head of her newborn doe towards her mate while her other child continued to nurse. 

	“Elder?” Ashari beckoned as she watched her newborn latch onto her mate's sheath, “I want my daughter to bear many fawns of her own. Can you . . . can you bless her birth canal as well, so that she may become fertile sooner?”

	Mundunugu smiled, watching the other male stroke the back of his daughter's ears as she suckled on her father's manhood  with every ounce of strength she had. “Certainly,” he replied, lifting up the newborn's leg to expose her sex to the gentle caress of his hand. She was still attached to her mother, and already her womb was going to be blessed by the same elder that had ensured her safe arrival.

	“She's latching on really hard,” Ashari's mate said, his long ears flushing slightly. Already he was proudly erect, his long pink shaft slipping down his daughter's throat bit by bit. And she wanted every inch, hoping to get a taste of her father's rich milk. Meanwhile Mundunugu was fondling the newborn's privates, trying to urge his own sloppy member back to its full engorgement. It certainly didn't take much; a few slippery grinds against her swollen, pudgy lips and he slid right in. He only made it an inch or so before she began to clench up, showing visible discomfort.

	“Too far,” Ashari's mate blurted out, keeping a hand on the back of his daughter's head, “She's starting to unlatch.”

	“Be gentle, elder,” Ashari chimed in. 

	Mundunugu listened. He pulled out slightly, rubbing against the outside of her little lips, trying to 'warm her up' before making another attempt. The elder's second try went much more according to plan. He barely caressed the insides of her nethers with his tip, and pushed ever so gently, making sure she stayed content and latched on to her father. 

	“She's sucking really hard,” the newborn's father huffed, “I can't hold back much longer!” Without waiting for a reply, his little girl got what she was after. Her father bleated and grimaced, and both Ashari and the elder watched as a small dribble of white, sticky male-milk tricked down her chin, soon joined by a second and a third. She was gulping down as much as her little mouth could handle, but her daddy was just giving her too much! Mundunugu took a little more time, but seeing the little newborn suck down gulp after gulp of protein-rich milk drove him over the edge not soon after.

	“B-bless!” Mundunugu stuttered, watching as his second dose of sacred seed hallowed the tiny girl's insides, enabling her to conceive fawns of her own. His second 'blessing' soon came spraying back out, the little girl not having enough room to contain all of the elder's love. The baby doe perked up almost immediately, her father's rich milk already giving her strength. The little fawn's father picked her up and cradled her in his arms, ignoring the dribbles of white between her legs. Ashari was exhausted, but satisfied, with her son contently burbling at her breast. The rite was complete, and the gathered crowd slowly began to disband, a few stragglers taking the time to approach the couple to offer praise and congratulations. Mundunugu and Denaar returned to their hut, content that the tribe would continue to flourish with the addition of its two newest members.