Alaine could still forgive her, at such a young age, for the wrongness that bloomed within the girl's empty chest. She was a child yet. But with each passing day the struggle to cope with her daughter's vicious, dangerous nature became harder. There was a breaking point, and it loomed somewhere on the horizon for them both.
For now, though, she was content to cradle her guilt close, so close that it would fester against her skin. Mother and child were a beautiful pair, but Alaine's beauty had been shattered long ago, and Elvira's was shallow, only skin deep.
The child stirred again in her embrace, vocalizing her want for the gift Alaine offered. The raptor yellow eyes focused on her again, but when glossed with tears they were much easier to consider mortal, fallible. Normal. Alaine crooned again, and carried the girl still clutched to her down the creaking stairwell, and into the kitchen. The room was the pagan witch's true home - Walls lined with bottles of mysterious brew, strange medical items littering benches. On the central bench, however, was a strange lump of wilted ebony spider webs, that revealed itself after a moment's glance to be a bow.
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