A satisfying sting resonated on her palm, and the hysterical shireking stopped with one sharp yelp. The sound echoed in her ears, and it was wrong - That was not the sound she had wanted. That was a sound of genuine pain coming from a young maw. That was a sound that evolution had programmed her to despise and fear greatly, and such urges clashed horribly with the surge of triumph at receiving the following silence.
The strange haze retreated from her mind as, slung limply from her grasp, Elvira began to cry. The sounds that came from her were natural puppy sounds, not the monstrous tantrum of before, and with each pitiful bleat something crumbled within Alaine. "Oh, no, Dea," She whispered, still holding the girl-child at an arms length. Emerald green eyes filled with the festering guilt she so readily drowned in, "Elvira, I'm so sorry, mo croi..." She began to babble in the old language, and moved to pull her daughter close, wanting to envelope the small golden body with her own horrible, rancid flesh. How could she had done this? "I will give you everything. Anything you want. I'm so sorry... Oh, my darling..."
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