Moonspear dealing with danger

Alya was tiring, but she still had some steam left in her. That, and she was tenacious once she had her prey in sight, rarely stopping until she'd made the kill or her legs could carry her no longer. Still, when Altair evaded her that first time, another snarl escaped her, half real anger and half approving cackle — perhaps once or twice more, and she might be willing to let this go.

Come back, she called to the boy, wasting some of her breath to nettle him, I'm hungry.