Moonspear a marked deck

He doesn't know if averting his gaze is enough; there is danger here and his body signals with red flags, mental klaxons blaring, telling him to keep her trained in his vision at the same time. As she looms over him he feels tense. His hindquarters wriggle and his tail is a whip, sweeping aside dirt and debris manically.
As she nears his throat Tye resists the desire to flash his teeth. It is difficult. If she has deemed him a waste already then there is little he can do about it.
A nip, then, to his hindquarters. His bony feet kick out in a spasm like a cricket caught upside down. Narrowly missing her blunt snout and many eager teeth. The boy croons a low sad note in the back of his throat; a nervous whine that quiets as hastily as it starts.