Doshvin couldn't help but be comforted by her master's warm, gentle touch, despite her sickness, the bruises on her ribs, her roaring stomach and her broken mind. She moaned softly, the sound barely escaping her lips as his strong fingers stroked her raven-black hair, slightly greasy as it had been a few days since master had allowed her to wash. Content for now, she slumped to her side, laying on her master's boots in an affectionate manner often reserved for dogs, searching for dirt from under her fingernails and wiping it on her forearm.<br/><br/>She gave the chains that bound her to her master's throne an affectionate tug, a perpetual reminder that he would always be close to her and vice versa, even if some other elf tried to take him away from her. Speaking of which... Doshvin watched with guarded hostility as that particular elf was dragged before her master. Even with the other elven slaves dancing before him, some of them still fearful like Shaelee and some of them happy like Doshvin, master's eyes were locked on this new one. Alerted to her competition, Doshvin watched as her master stepped off of his throne and walked towards the slumping and broken elf and knelt beside her. The exchange of words was quiet, but Doshvin barely heard them. When the elf said she couldn't live without them, Doshvin wanted to scream at her, to wrap her throat with irons and strangle her. How could she possibly love master as much as she did!<br/><br/>"Doshvin love master, not her!" The broken elf accused, sitting up and pointing an accusing finger at Shaelee, the chains attached to her shackles clinking with the movement.