Hoshor Plains grinning

Like blood spilling from a wound he slithered forth, and as though loosed by a tear he breached striking distance uttering words that made Æsilfír's blood run cold. She stole a breath and eyed the yellowed teeth that snapped for her shoulder. 

The fur there was loose, the skin tough but not impervious to those daggers. Her sides would quake with the shock and the vibrations of her growls. And with bloody gums and bits of gristle still snagged between her teeth she snapped at his face- hoping she might hook one of her fangs into that grisly socket where his eye used to be.