Bearclaw Valley bear with me

Listening to the stranger, it drives a headache into him. A stomachache just about to blow up. He's seen the smirk too many times—like a uniform, they wear it, loitering in the alleyways and coming out at night, crouching and making infantile noises at pretty girls.
Neatly, quietly, he decides that this man is scum.
Merrick and Astara move as one. Taylor lunges forwards too, his teeth bared down to the very last molar, his head lowered, bull-like. Even when he's within striking distance, he does not stop, his mouth poised around one of the stranger's hind legs.
Already, he's rolling his jaws, a biological mortar-and-pestle designed to crush bone.