Phoenix Maplewood can you not

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the movement has her head snap up a moment before the yowling begins, gaze has a second to take in the massive, fluffy shape catapulting towards her. sparrow drops from her maw in an instant, and another yowl adds to the ear-splitting cacophony (she is distantly aware of laughter) as she throws herself at him, face twisted. her claws are still retracted, for now; she knows an enemy when she sees it and this mound of pale fur hardly qualifies, or so she hopes.