The Heartwood monsters of smoke and mirror

Her demands became louder and sharper; actions followed suit as well. Mordecai couldn't help but wonder at which point she would come to first: attacking him, or fleeing from him. He feared no immediate resistance from anyone else joining their fray, because if that were truly the case then he expected it would have already happened. They had to have been far enough away from whatever pack she thought she had, or came from, or whatever the case was. None of that really mattered because she had certainly done more than fouled his shady bout of rest. She had threatened him.

As he took another step forward, his streamlined frame sunk a little bit. Not in submission, but in further aggression. He wanted to give that illusion that he was preparing for an attack, when in reality he was also defending himself against any opportunity that she would take against him. He had no hopes of disregarding violence; if it happened, it happened. His jaws parting, he gave her a throaty, harsh growl. How's that for an answer?