Blackfeather Woods First, we eat.

Rocco cared for her just as much as she cared about him. He just wanted to get this mangy mutt out of his way so he could eat. Was that so much to ask? His claws scrapped across her chest, and Rocco thought that would be enough to send her running. But, no. There she still stood. In his way. He retreated quick enough that she just missed grabbing his leg. Try again, mutt.

He growled his displeasure and went for her again, this time full on as he lunged straight for her face with both front legs preparing to shred skin. Even if she moved, he hoped to make contact somewhere. If not, maybe he could slip inside the den as she recouped from the attacked.