Lake Rodney they'll never win you back

Teeth sank in to fur and then beyond fur and in to flesh, and as a line of blood caught between his teeth and met his tongue, Screech came to a violent stop. His body had tumbled carelessly but he braced it now; he released his grip and pulled, almost able to get free of the stranger's own hold, only to pause when a voice (muffled though it was) spoke with a convenient familiarity.

Redshank--? The boy craned his neck and thrashed his body, kicked with a foreleg, and tried to pry himself free with one last shimmy of an attempt. Whether he got free or not, he did manage to get a glimpse of some dark fur and could only assume he was right - but that didn't make him feel good at all. He didn't feel bad for his reaction either, considering his history with the other boy and the manner in which he decided to reintroduce himself. Screech shoved at him with a paw and huffed loudly, his scratchy voice demanding, The fuck -- where'd you come from?