The Sentinels how depressing

Nox blinked dumbly when the other spoke back, throwing around their differences scarcely before they’ve met. It doesn’t change anything, the thrill is still there, and the aggression is only building, Eventually, they come face to face and the hybrid exclaims her surprised on not being able to spot her. Excitement wipes from her features and is replaced by confusion.
 
“I don’t give two shits who ya mama was,” she states with a new irritated flick of her tail, taking a few steps closer. “Ya get any closer and ya have a whole pack come down on ya, then we’ll see who’s who,” she spits back with a click of her teeth, tongue lashing against the cage and her rear legs lock into place so that her joints spring into action and giving the tiny thing a chase, for she’s much more vocal with her actions than the nonsense that spouts from her maw.