Hideaway Strath screaming at the top of your lungs

The apology was like the whisper of an angel to his ears. Even though he hadn't really been beaten by Whrist, the soft touch and the soft-spoken 'sorry' were something that he knew. First, pain. Second, whimpering pathetically. Third, sorry and hugs. The last step was often missing these days. Sometimes both the first and the third, which made his brain do something weird. He couldn't explain it. Couldn't explain why it made him hurt himself until at least one more step of the process was done. But this. This soothed it. Soothed him. Charles leaned in to the soft touch of her muzzle and he felt whole and loved, for but a moment. As though he was back in those rare moments in his life where his mother would press him against her soft fur and whisper how sorry she was for hurting him.

Charles felt relaxed as he leaned against Whrist, her warmth like a comforting blanket over his shoulders. She asked him if he wanted to do anything else. Can I stay here? he asked instead, hoping she would allow him to stay at peace for just another moment.

maybe we can fade this here? <3