She purrs at the stroking, while still hungrily lapping up at the fresh milk, her little tail flicking fast. She turns to look at you as you mentions the dinner with your associates, on ear perked up, the other lopsided, tilting her head a bit. She nuzzles you gently, her lips covered with milk, purring and mewing, apprently not minding being called your daughter. She nods and gives your cheeks a lick, as if to agree on the deal with you.<br/><br/>Then, for a split second, it isn't a small feral tigress cub you have in front of you, but an anthro-tigress of approximately 1 year old, barely able to stand on her legs, hugging you as much as she can. Then she shifts back into her feral form, smiling, licking her lips clean of milk, the bowl already empty.