Mercy had never been a cat-lover and didn’t know till then, that cats of all sizes made that humming sound signifying pleasure.
The beast was well pleased to be alive and looked her over carefully, trying to decide, she guessed, whether to grant her the same privilege. Before she could protest or skitter backwards and away, his tongue lapped a place on her neck, and then he bit her.
His tooth caught on the fabric of her dress leaving it torn at the neck where he’d ripped the material. She was more upset about that, than the pain. Dresses were hard to come by and she didn’t have so many that she could afford to lose one to an ungrateful cat.
Prudent or not, she swatted at him saying, “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve torn my dress.”
The cat sat on his haunches staring at her for awhile, and since he wasn’t going anywhere, apparently neither was she, so she put her hand over the bite.
Misery was surprised at how little a mark was there, since she'd felt the teeth puncture the flesh of her shoulder and neck. The wound wasn’t bleeding and closed rapidly beneath her touch. At least that part of things went right, since usually she couldn't heal herself.