Swiftcurrent Creek And I can't help you fix yourself

She watched the bird fall and took a step forward, warded off by his steady gaze and firm, but calm tone. Now she felt as though she was being teased; and while she had no doubt that he absolutely would deliver the bird to Arlette and tell her that Cygnet had caught it, she detested the notion of Arric doing anything noble. It would surely earn him a smile, and that was a prize she wanted for herself. 

It was because of how calm he remained that she tempered her instincts. Had she caught a flash of ire or tyranny in his eyes, she might have lunged to snap at his ankles and free the bird for herself, but she saw now that that tactic wouldn't likely work. More than anything, she wanted to avoid being scruffed and pinned to the ground, but second to that was getting her bird back. 

She took two steps forward, ears still flicked back but not flattened, and more gently this time, tapped her foot against the ground. She avoided his gaze, and showed him the whites of her eyes as she averted her gaze but kept him well within her peripheral vision. It was about as much deference as she was willing to show, and even that grated on her nerves.