it's going down, i'm yelling timber

<style type="text/css">q {font:13px Georgia; color:#BA6D00;}</style>She watched with amusement, as she lowered her jaw to the sand to scoop her succulent little morsel in and chewed it thoughtfully, as Pump took up the activity of crab hunting. She bristled very slightly when the female came nearer, but only out of instinct; there was no fear in her that the black-furred wolf would attempt to steal her crab. Jinx was a trained fighter anyway, and any altercation would be in her favour; she held rank, and was selfish enough to believe that that gave her immunity.

Pump did no such thing, so it never came to that. Instead, she combed the rainy tide pools and came upon her own shelled hermit crab, slightly smaller than Jinx's, but definitely not the smallest on the beach. Jinx craned her neck to see, but was incapable of spotting the crab from her angle... And anyway, it was boring to watch. More interesting was her ability to finally inspect Pump, noting a few things: the way her one ear seemed to flop down as if broken, the tufts of fur that stuck out further than most wolves' fur did, and her stockier stature.

Jinx was unfamiliar with hybrids, though, and chocked these things up to flawed genetics or, in the case of the ear, an unfortunate accident.

A delicacy, she clarified, though the clarification itself was far from thorough. What kind of delicacy, Pump might have asked, or, where do they eat such creatures? Jinx almost chuckled at the thought of presenting Pump with an octopus, but they were exceedingly rare, and if Jinx had found one, she was keeping it for herself. If you crack the shell. They won't fill your belly, unless you purged the whole sea, but they do taste good.