Hoshor Plains suburban muse

You are good! I completely forgot i owed you a response here but I'll get this wrapped up :)

This dance of gnashing teeth and disjointed snarls was far from what she'd had in mind when she first assailed the bastard in the fields, though, she'd gotten exactly what she'd asked for here.

His teeth sunk into her in brief pass-by's, as hers sunk into him, it was a messy scramble that the two of them did and there seemed to be little end in sight; until his jaws met with her side and sprung forth a pained screech from her pearly jaws. He tore a patch of fur from her shoulder and raked his rotten teeth along the blade before she was able to roll and kick and flail free—much like a younger sibling losing a wrestling match.

She put distance between them this time, tattered ears flattened to her head, she wouldn't say a word, simply looking over the damage she'd done to him, and he'd done to her in kind. She would not give him the opportunity to enact more, and as much as she desired to tear into him for the mere fucking gall of daring to attack her, she would instead turn tail and skitter away, heading back for the homestead.

I'll just tell on you then, fucker.

She wouldn't pay mind to the fact that he too was injured at her hand; because why would she? She was always in the right. She could play a good victim.