Qeya River things change, rearrange, or so do i

disbanded.

having no habit of keeping it closed, diesel's jaw was already slack. but now a long, long string of drool extended from it nearly to the ground, as she stared blank-gazed at this random guy.

her rage poured out sudden and intense.

"HHACK!!" the mastiff roared, barking at everything, spit flying, leaping around like a chained dog.

"hhack, hhack, hhack!!" blinded, she tore into her catch, her gift, her present - the stupid fucking thing she spent two days hauling and WEEKS hunting. mighty jaws pulled out big clumps of stale meat and brittle hair.

this lasted a bit.

when diesel stopped, it wasn't because her anger did. she stood on top of the deercalf, now looking like a pillow she'd ruined as a pup, breathing heavy, hazel eyes encircled by bulging white.

diesel snorted, and turned her head to the guy. she gave him a better look.

wolf, of course. looking like life chewed on him, until he personally pried the jaws open and bit that whore back. for all the intelligence she lacked, diesel knew a tough motherfucker when she saw one.

that he wasn't awful-looking, was a bonus.

the bitch sneered, which with her ruined face looked like a snarl.

"oh, i ain't hahh had." she rumbled, stepping off the mangled thing. "didn't think your kind knew hhat a gang wash."

the mastiff approached, with intent to make him feel her breath on his tar-dipped snout.

"hhy, lookin' hor a mashcot?" her eyes glistened with barely contained violence.