Porcupine Ridge Crafted, holy, rolling thunder

Well, that was a mortifying revelation.

She didn't know much about where he came from; aside from this little tidbit that painted as its own special layer of hell, but in some ways, it sounded like her own home. A pyramid of winners and losers, some drawing shorter straws than other. All sorts of depraved outlets exploited by those who had the power to exploit it. Least she had been lucky enough not to draw that particular straw.

Mama had been one, and it made her miserable. Envy didn't like this strange feeling in her chest and it presented itself in the twitch of her paws. And what a shame for touch to be so tainted, meaning robbed, really, or maybe it was her that had the backwards understanding. Red eyes absorbed the information in silence, seeming to process piece by piece by piece. There was no shock but certainly no indifference either, just a blank look that gave little insight into what was going on in her mind.

She both could, and couldn't imagine that sort of thing. Paired with all those gorgeous scars, she put pieces together and she didn't exactly love the sort of picture they painted.

Sensitivity, not silence.

Envy kept her tone quieter, mulled the information a moment over. ..I can give you a warning. I'll figure somethin' out n' make sure you can actually see it. She paused a moment, looking back over. Most'd just bite me when they wanted me to stop so I- never.. know.. cause you haven't yet n' I thought— Her head hung slightly. Boundaries pushed and pressed until they broke, she made a habit of skating on thin ice. Thought it wasn't.. that way, I guess.

You're allowed to have freedom outside your head, too. She rolled onto her side, a paw stuck up, testing a bubble of personal space rather than his side, this time around.

Not that he didn't like it, or so he said. Surely there was some middle ground to be reached. ...What do you like, then?