Ankyra Sound Wretched thing

A figure emerged, a stocky, rose-touched boy; and though he near dwarfed the bone-thin frame of the wretch, she'd abruptly scramble to her paws with a ferocity unfit for ones state. Pearly ivories peaked from beneath a slowly rising lip. He dared to stare so intently at her kill. The first in days—and then he spoke.

What?

She crooked her head to the side, never before had she heard this tongue, but judging from the way his gaze flickered about, from matching her own to trailing down to the rabbit; she was getting a feeling he had an intention that she was most opposed to.

Go away! You've got plenty of meat on your bones. I'm not sharing. She makes her snarky remark with a venomous huff, standing protectively over her kill whilst her tail thrashes to each side.