It disturbed him that she was afraid, but not enough to make him regret drawing her to him. They were always afraid. He had come to accept that they always would be … of him because he was not as they were and they feared and hated anything that was different from them. They wanted the things that only he could give them, though. They fawned upon him and flattered him until they had convinced him to give it to them, but underneath the smiles and adulteration, beneath the earnest entreaties and promises of appreciation, they still feared him and they hated him. In any case, it was the fear that drew the best, or worst, from them and he had determined long ago that he would never allow himself to be moved by one of them to help again unless he found that they were truly worthy. It did not matter if she feared him. It did not matter if she hated him because he made her afraid. It only mattered that she prove to him that she was worthy of the gift he was inclined to give her. It only mattered if he knew that she would cherish it as it should be cherished.
