Kintla Flatlands your problem is, you spent your whole life thinking there were rules

Belharra regretted a few things in life, in this moment. Quaffing the rabbit wasn't one of them, but having this fine lady as her last sight before she was shuffled off to greener pastures, well, that stung a bit.

She didn't have much in the way of protest, giving she was choking on a rabbit and all. Her eyes streaming, her vision flaring and then blistering in red, and her throat burning, Belharra gasped and clawed and wheezed and scrabbled up until the hare was yoinked from the back of her throat where it had taken up residence.

"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAGH," Came the obnoxiously loud intake of air, greedy and indiscriminate. Belharra sat there a moment gasping, rubbing her throat with a slim paw. Fuck, that had hurt - and she had only managed half of the rabbit.

She supposed the trade was fair: the rabbit's business end for her life. Readjusting herself, Belharra cleared her raw throat. "Just keepin' ya on yer toes, is all. Ya coulda gotten worse then a stealed meal, yannow." Then she flashed her most disarming smile, which surprise, was not very disarming after all.