The ensuing response was far different than what she’d been shown previously. Inflicted pain, and an open show of hurt from her, garnered affection. Apologies and gentle words on their second tongue rained down on her, and she was pulled close—as she did truly wish on occasion, even if she didn’t have the capability of requesting it. As soft sounds bubbled from her throat, whimpering as the wounded child she was, sharp raptor eyes drank everything in with ravenous ardor.
She observed her mother’s reaction, even after the sting of the blow had faded away and dim comfort had replaced it. Desire for the embrace reigned, and Elvira didn’t let up her pained crying just yet. She wanted to see how far she could use it to her advantage. Dramatically, she sniffed, burying her face in her mother’s fur.
Pain was an easy exchange for love.
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