Boartusk Heights And if you were my little girl

teya was fully ensnared by the dance of the hunt, and the way that kynareth moved. he had the same motions with her, she noted in a shiver: a heavyfoot jungle cat moving sibilantly after more than one type of prey. 
he was dangerous, the girl forced herself in this moment to realize.
she watched him lift the squealing boar, mesmerized by the flying droplets of blood.
at the man's signalling, she remembered her own role and dashed forward. her fisherman's jaws glinted again for the hide below the throat, and her strike was firm. musky blood flooded her mouth, the taste of it a surprising reek.
teya shifted closer, lifting onto hindpaws to follow the arc of kynareth's violent shaking. the boar swung its tusks toward the second wolf. she gasped as a wound opened along her cheek, but did not release her hold.