Bramblepoint one in the chamber

So, she wanted to fight for it.

Ephraim curled back his lips and snarled. It was just like a haughty pack wolf to behave in such a conceited fashion. From Ephraim's estimation, she could well go a few days without food and hardly notice, while for him it could spell another day or two of having the strength to stand. Yet was it not the way of the haves to forever snatch every tiny morsel from the mouths of the have nots to feed their greed? That was what he had learned in all his time as a vagabond. The pack may be gone but the snotty elite remained.

His guard hairs lifted into a sharp triangle at the back of his neck. He hunched slightly when Sphyra advanced, counted a beat, then sprang forward to feign several warning snaps at her nose, employing psychological warfare at first in hopes that fear of a real attack would be enough to cow her. As quick as he came, Ephraim coiled back over top of the rabbit and growled low in his throat, spare muscles shifting with anticipation under his dull coat.