Redhawk Caldera Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

She wasn't expecting the resistance. Towhee fell still, blinking in confusion. She tried to tug backward again but she was stuck fast. A puzzled whine climbed up her throat, dribbling out of her open mouth right along with some drool. Reflexively, the pup swallowed, the pink muscle flexing but remaining attached to the icy hunk of meat.

Towhee couldn't hear—would never be able to hear—but she felt the vibration of footfalls and sensed a presence on her left. Unable to turn her head, she slid her blue eyes sideways in an attempt to identify her observer. He (or she) stood just out of view so all Towhee saw was the vaguest glimpse of white fur.

Starting to get frustrated, the pup began shaking her head back and forth and unleashed a whimper of distress in the hopes that the bystander would stop standing there and come free her from this bewildering trap.