The moment the salty scent of the interloper hit her senses, the rage boiled up inside Sore that threatened to consume them both. How dare this sea dog come upon her while she is on the hunt. How dare he approach her when she is so obviously better and far superior than he? She would kill him for his insolence.

The only problem with her decision is her own distractions, for she only registers his scent when he is upon her. However, he wastes his breath with many words and gives her the moments that she needs. Perhaps had it been any other wolf he might have been safe at the distance he chose. However, Sore was no wolf. And even with the body she occupied she strove to be the apex predator. Her differences only fueled her desire to be better, and though she had started out low she had become the best. It showed in the lean muscle of her legs and the manner in which they could propel her forward, much like she was doing right now. The leap she gives is astounding, partly due to her upbringing as well as the naturally long legs she possess. When he approached her he came at an angle, and from her view of him she spies her mark.

When she finally came upon him from the side her jaws went for his neck, hoping to catch him where his shoulder met his neck. If she hit her mark she would dig her fangs as deep as she possibly could into his flesh. There was no slash and dash here. She was bigger than him, both taller and heavier, perhaps a little overconfident, and she wasn't playing games. Large jaws that belong to the body she inhabits served her well in these moments, for she wanted nothing more than to grab hold of this insolent dog. She wanted to shake the life out of him. If she had missed her mark she would do her best to reach him however else she could with gnashing teeth and a crazed feline hunger glowing in her eyes of ice and fire.