Despite the fact that Tila-Rose was crawling on hands and knees, she moved with a stalking grace. After all, spending two years only with cats did a number on how her body moved. She could climb a tree horrifically fast. Why didn’t she take her medication today? Well, no one came to offer the soft chunks of tuna that they hid them within. Why? All Tila knew was that the tasty treats did not come around after breakfast. It had been mildly disappointing: she waited by the couch for the tuna, but it never came.<br/><br/>Her eyes danced along the broken glass along the sides of the floor, but she had no real effort to avoid it. The main part of the floor was swept well enough to keep her hands, knees, shins and the tops of her feet safe from shattered and powdered glass.<br/><br/>When they arrived to his office, she sat in the doorway, still on her knees with her backside against her heels and hands resting at her knees. It was a very submissive way to sit by human standards and the girl watched him, lulling her head lightly to the side. Therapy. Wasn’t she supposed to have therapy with the other doctor? Her gaze was mildly confused, but she soon was distracted by the tuna.<br/><br/>Tila lifted the cotton shirt over her head. No matter his tone, she would have not known any difference. He could have touched himself while he told her she could strip and she would have not known the difference. Her breasts were small, but perky topped with tan areola and she had no distinguishing marks on her naked torso; no scars or birthmarks riddled her.<br/><br/>The tail was attached to a thin belt around her waist so when she removed the shorts the tail was untouched. She nuzzling her chin against her naked shoulder and released a soft “Mrowl” noise.<br/>