Cerulean Cape if someone is talking about you behind your back, just fart

Her jaws didn't slacken on the bone when the digger, having unearthed it and given Wylla the chance to yank it away, slammed a paw into it and shrieked at her. Her ears pinned back and her eyes rolled up to meet him, and if anything, the look of his dark-masked face only compelled her to grip tighter. She eyed the tips of his yellow teeth as he scrunched his face up at her, equal parts offended and angry (but what the fuck did this bastard have to be offended about, she wondered; he had lied to her) and made the single stupidest remark any dude could ever make.

Well, besides calling her a skunk, anyway.

The bridge of her muzzle rippled and around the bone in her jaws, which she gave a sharp wrench with a backward step and twitch of her shoulders, she told him, "don't worry, no one wants your crusty, diseased bone." Her tail lashed violently and a snarl tore from her throat as she gave the rib bone another good tug, but Wylla was a lot tinier than Raptor, and he weighed a lot more than her. His paw was enough to secure it in place with only minimal movement. But she didn't stop, because if anything, this lying, no good piece of shit owed it to her for humiliating her.