Ch'ngling and the Destrier of Doom

Strangely enough her protruding green belly had not one but two spheroid bulges, which could be seen to quiver and beat from time to time with the energetic kickings and writhings of the overdue snotlingling within. And so when her time at long last came, she slinked off, found a musty pile of leaves in which to crawl, did so, and awaited the arrival of her new snotlingling.

But something very strange happened: as the green bile broke, two gabbling fanged maws bleated their plaint to the uncaring duff above, two microencephalic green knobbed heads wiggled and moaned their way out of the female's drum-taught belly.

The female bent down and wrenched each one out by the next, the warm damp leaves and dirt (and a few tasty bugs) falling into the snotlingling twins' mouths as she did so. She had only come up with one name and so she named them both that name: Ch'ngling.

And they grew and became little snotlinglings named Ch'ngling:

And Ch'ngling:

And inseparable, nastly little snotlinglings they were, too.