Blackfeather Woods only a madman likes the pain

The girl wasn't sure if the inflicting pain of others worked. Until now it had brought only temporality relief. Though, she also admitted to herself that she didn't really care for the wolf she had maimed before. She was rather indifferent to what she had been feeling towards hurting this wolf. For a long moment it felt good, until he died, then all the fun had been gone. He couldn't feel the same pain as she was feeling anymore.

She listened to Cicero, and in a way he was right. She didn't think too much why he was angry. His words about how brief the relief was, had been true for her. But she had only hurt one other wolf. She hoped that if she hurt more wolves that it would go stronger and made her able to digest all that happened. Maybe Cicero was not right. Maybe it was different for her, yet she did stop hurting him. This was all very confusing to her.

The girl looked at her brother, into his eyes. "My life doesn't contain happiness," she spoke on a monotone like voice.