Otter Creek it's the screams, baby

The moment of shared eye contact, paired with each's own firey gaze, raves Zhenya's own rage and defense. Her tail flicks over her back, letting the brute know that she is more than ready for combat, though she allows him the space to make the first move. Part of her wants to leave the sickly male behind and go back to her own personal claim, though she knows turning her back on him could prove a fatal mistake. I'm not a child. I am capable. She remains still and locked in position, though slightly crouched, should something ensue.