She became a fragile little thing. Bad words and bad deeds made people cry. He had seen it when several times. Big, wet tears landed on his fur from her big, bi-coloured eyes. He had hurt her, made her hurt just like he had wanted to. His father seemed to gain pleasure from ruining beautiful things, but why did not Conor feel the calm happiness enter his heart? No, what the boy felt was more sadness rolling over him with its powerful waves. Guild bloomed within and made fresh tears roll down his face and mingle with the already sodden sand that in return clung to his face. One could not replace the hurt inside by hurting other people. Truth be told, he did not know if the white girl’s mother hated her or not, had not even considered such a thought before the mean shadow of Haku Soul had driven him to tell her that. The words had come out of his mouth because this was what happened to him. His mother hated him, he was certain of this fact.
She spat her words out at them, resembling an angry kitty, yet still adorable in her own way. Her words hit him hard in the chest, and he snivelled pathetically, still stuck under her. He wanted to raise his voice for a counter attack, but what would such a move lead to? Conor was a very sad boy, and now he had transformed a happy girl into a sad girl. He was just like daddy, a horrible, mean person. The violet eyed boy did not want to tell her where his mommy was. If he did not answer, she could not prove anything, and he could go on and pretend he was not an abandoned child in a broken home. He wanted her to get off. The boy started to wriggle under the little girl, but she was heavier than she looked like (Conor was also particularly weak for his age and size). A squeal escaped his maw in frustration.