It isn't long before Cehd'ra catches up. Just enough time for He Ming's reaction to sink in, to realize something's happened or rather that something's happening. The miqo'te hiccups, trying to stifle his cries but can only muffle them. The constant teasing of his tail makes it impossible to put more than a couple of thoughts together at one time, but it sounds like He Ming is worried and the instinctive response to that is to reach out and hold him. Cehd'ra winds his arms around He Ming's shoulders, pulling their upper bodies close as the tentacles still have everything below the waist held hostage. He muffles another tired wail against He Ming's neck when the pressure inside him changes.

The unforgiving edge of pressure softens, the mass no smaller but now with a give to it...it's honestly a relief, dialing the intensity further away from painful. Which only left... "Ooh...!"

Weird was one thing to call it, as the egg's shape changed--gods, why was it changing? What was happening to them now?--its weight changed with it, shifting lower...and then higher?

"It...it's moving. He Ming. He Ming it...gods why is it moving?!" Tiny movements really, but from deep inside each little shift feels magnified, more so as the eggs' shells continue to soften and break down.