The sudden scrambling catches the griffon by surprise.  Ivory feathers ruffle and a snort of motion shivers the feline trunk.  Miaren pulls forward.  Her mate pulls back.  Where they are joined becomes a feverish blister of feeling.<br/><br/>The prong embedded in Miaren's womb stretches from a soft, sinewy plug to a searing strap fastened to her core.  Dug in like a briar, it transmits the fierce tugging to the tender flesh around it.  Muscles stretch in sympathy.  Nerves bite down hard on the implanted prong.  Everything strains.  Miaren finds that by heaving forward, she is tugging against her own interior.<br/><br/>But the griffon is tugging back.  And with a twist of his haunches, he dislodges, drawing the forked point of its penis from the hollow of her uterus.  Fluid splashes a final tear against the egg already rooted in her.  Friction flutters like burning butterflies in her tummy.  The tube sucks out its leathery length.<br/><br/>The pressure coughs the second egg free of the griffon's sex.  It plants it in Miaren's.  The egg is lodged, smooth and heavy and snug in the aching ring of her cervix.<br/><br/>Encircling flesh tries not to shiver too much.  It sips in the soothing fluid still basting it in warmth, but not too loosely.  It clenches at the widest point of the egg.  Not too hard, though.  Not too rapidly.<br/><br/>A twitch, a clench, a shift of weight, and the egg will slide.  It will pop through the elastic circle, one way or the other.  The slightest motion, and it may slide into Miaren's tingling vagina, or sink against its brother bedded in her womb.<br/><br/>The griffon, dislodged, stalks backward to watch its agonized mate with a cool, regal wariness, looking for all the world like a painting on a heraldic shield.