Sun Mote Copse you think i wanna go back to wyoming.

She did not exactly find what she sought, though Sugar was treated to the stimulation of nearly all five senses at once as Penn spat and attempted to retreat. She felt the warmth of his breath and the moistness of his saliva even as he made the most intriguing noise she'd heard thus far. She watched as he toppled over backward, strange black eyes blinking several times at the sharp squawk that he made on impact with the den's floor.

The same instinct that compelled pet dogs to attack squeaky toys drove Sugar forward, her own toothless mouth making an ineffective pass at Penn's throat. Her attack was less deadly and more ticklish, though it was entirely possible she was partially throttling him (again...) as well as she mashed her gums into the soft fur at the side of his neck.