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Up his head comes, as if in slow motion, and his eyes turn to meet mine. There is a satisfaction in mine that is defeated only by the way he twists, his stiffer figure turning but not completely escaping my clutches. As my claws rake down him and my teeth scrape I attempt to hook my claws within him and pull my legs closer to me, hoping to drag him with it, but he is wily. Still the coppery scent in the air gets my heart racing, gets my tongue tickling, and I land on the ground crouched low with my haunches a bit higher than my shoulders and tail whipping the air.

The male scrabbles to get up and the only saving grace for him is the little girl that steps up, her pitiful growl earning her a scathing hiss. It is when she begins to snarl in earnest that the I turn my wicked gaze upon her, allowing this male to get himself ready to attack. He shouts but it is garbled to me, a language I cannot understand. I lunge forward at the girl but am startled when the male rushes in to bite at me, his teeth grasping the fatty portion between my upper shoulder and back. I yowl but stretch out my claws to rip at the face of the delicate female, turning only if I can I drive her back so that my teeth head straight for the lean leg of the male wolf near me - front, back, either that dances between my face is my desire. Bite and snap - I will break his leg then break his body.

Then I will feast.