we do not speak your language, see

The vitriol in Caiaphas' gaze was unmistakable; two bitter yellow rings of glowering contempt that traced her new adversary's every move. Caiaphas, as fleet as she was, likely could not overtake this gaunt shadow. Bayou could probably outpace her in a matter of minutes. Caiaphas' stamina was appallingly nonexistent -- and soon she would have to relent from her excursions. But for now, her breath came in pale rags and her legs seemed to move as rapidly as the blood coursing through her. Gritting her teeth, she dropped her muzzle and spurned herself forwards with every fiber of her frame towards the black ghoul. With one final spiteful move she launched herself upwards once her hind legs hit the ground - using her prolific momentum to her advantage. If she was as quick as she hoped, she would have possibly been able to close the gap between them enough that she would be head to head with her opponent -- and if this was the case, she would swing her ugly muzzle sideways like a bludgeon in the hopes of forcing Bayou to drop the scant remnants clutched between her teeth.