George was full of hatred. Of his own weakness and stupidity, of his magic, of the stubbornness and the pride of Beatrice and Maria, and, last of all, hatred of Dr. Their, who had started it all. But the hatred swayed to pity. Then to hopelessness. Then back to anger. Every once in a great while, he felt a moment of peace, usually when he caught a glimpse of Beatrice and Maria together. He loved them both in different ways. But that could not be. He turned away, and the cycle began again.

The Princess and the Hound