The Tangle BWP3: PREY OPPORTUNITY

Warbone bathed in the glorious taste of a kill like this. The tender throat gave easily to his starving teeth, and the king of Marauders felt ecstasy within his ravenous spirit. The feeling was taken from him too soon; a slate figure streaked forward, setting a claiming bite to haunch of his pack's kill, and Warbone was suddenly reminded of the initial howler that had ruined his stalk. His eyes widened, perhaps genuinely surprised, and slow to come down from his bloody arousal. His snarl was low and ascending, starting deep in his gut and then rising finally to his mouth in a sound that had risen above the intent to menace. She might have done better to wait and see what they would have left her. But the outnumbered she-wolf (as he was yet unaware of the slinking other) was probably a victim of her own hunger, or her status, he might've said if he knew her.

His wolves flooded forward, and the red hubris that clouded his vision then drew the mad wolf up out of his hunger, and onto the deer carcass. With the additional leverage, he clumsily— scrambling with psychotically violent clamor— sought to bear down on the black-faced cur. His renewed vehemence coming from the ire of a savage defending its very livelihood, and fueled by the presence of his supporters. And she was not something to drive away. If he could catch her, she was prey.