Hungry.

He stared at his little girl, her favorite dress tattered, or at least what was left of it. Her fingernails contained little bits of meat in a few of them, the rest of her fingers clean as a whistle.

The no older than eight year old girl continued to stare buck-eyed at her father, he unable to tell if all the fear she had of the kidnapper faded and went to him.

Her feet were dirty and damn near raw; whatever movement she made would cause her to stumble and wince, going back into beast mode. The blood soaked hair stuck close to his daughters face, even as he began to put them to the side to make eye contact with her.

"You... daddy could've fed you. Now you've eaten the neighbor AND dirtied the house. "

She sniffled, somewhat relief as she gripped her father closer. "I-I-I'm sorrwi, pupa. I'll wait nwext time. "