[It's mangy and disgusting and looks more ready to eat you alive than to curl up at your bedside. It's a misfit of an animal, which is probably why Elektra actually feels the tiniest shred of fondness for the strange creature, because doesn't she feel left out and like two things mashed together that don't quite belong?

Leaning onto the tip of her toe, she walks as silently as she can up to Matt, standing directly in his space so she can peer at his face, investigating his claim that he's not lying. Those Catholic schoolboy values of his are hard to escape, so he's probably not lying, but even so...

Why not test the theory?]

Whatever you're petting is most definitely not something you'd find at the pound, unless New York's broadened its definition of pet.

[While she's speaking, she's sidled herself right up against him, and when she's close enough, she grabs him by the balls without warning, with little kindness. The knife she'd been using is still stuck in the ground behind her, and she could have gone for the throat, could have struck his face, but this feels more intimate.

Besides, why ruin that pretty face?]

Still not lying?

[Fight back, her actions scream, a dare for him, a challenge. Fight, dig deep into that place, push.]