Otter Creek straight for the knife

Freak. With that word, Laksha stopped her insane questions, suddenly remembering the times before she went crazy, when she was a cub. She was the only white one of the litter and her mother hated her for it. Freak, you'll starve to death the moment you leave here. You can't survive with such a bright coat. Go up north to where it's cold and white and freeze to death, you queer bastard of mine, no one will ever see your corpse.

"What?" She hissed, sounding coherent for once. Her white tail lashed angrily. "I am no freak! I am Laksha the White Ghost! I survived when others would have died! I have killed humans! I am no freak!" The mountain lion yowled madly before pouncing at the gray wolf.