In the few months that Tila-Rose had been in the Asylum, she spoke very few words, but when she did, it was a bit frightening. She had brief moments of “sanity” and she even explained over a month’s time that she lived with her grandmother, who died a year before she was found. The woman was buried in the backyard.<br/><br/>Tila-Rose Tanner.<br/>18 years old.<br/>Her diagnosis was mild “Feral Child” and, more prominent “Clinical Lycanthropy.”<br/><br/>She honestly believed that she was a cat for most of the time. Sometimes, she showed she understood she was crazy and she would share a bit, but it was like two different people. Sometimes, the doctor could simply move a bit or tap his pen before she was back into the felinic persona.<br/><br/>Tila disliked clothes. They all learned that quickly, but she did wear them if she was permitted to cut them into shorts and she never, never let them put her in panties or bras. Thankfully, her bust was smallish and still quite firm and she had no real need for support.<br/><br/>The lights were off and she liked that as she settled on her side, licking at her wrist lazily, sweeping her tongue along the flesh as if cleaning it. A light noise purred forth from her throat and she seemed quite content licking herself as she curled up on her side. A meowing noise growled forth when someone entered the room and she rolled onto her back in hopes for attention.<br/>