Kintla Flatlands old and merry tune

Sunny snarled as she rolled over before he could tackle her and before he could halt himself enough and leap upon her, she had grabbed his throat. The hold was enough to have him stop dead in his tracks and stiffen, dread shooting through him. Was she going to kill him? The thought sent a wave of panic and rage through him and he lifted a paw, slamming it up and aiming to hit her windpipe to halt her breath and make her let go.

If she was to let go he'd jump onto her and bite the bridge of her nose, holding onto her with a vice grips as he stood over her.