Lone Star Mountain see in the dark

Where Solpallur did not chase after the child, Stjornuati's reflexes were too quick to draw anything but a chase from him. Prey ran. Bolted, even. Predators chased. Behind him, he left the trio: the raging mother, the bewildered brother, the fearful child. All of it whisked away just as easily as the wind combed through his fur, strides long and powerful as he ran after the pale girl.

Thought gave way to action, catching up with the child in a brief stretch of time before instinct ruled supreme. The diminuitive size was perfect for the next movement, jaws reaching as he overtook the girl and grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, where teeth might puncture but lack the harm of any other bite.

If there had been words to spit at her, they were muffled by the fur against his tongue, the muscles of his neck pulling taught as he promptly dragged her back the way she had come, back to her fang-faced mother. She could pitch a fit all she licked but with his teeth latched into flesh and fur, it was unlikely she'd rip away from him without bringing great harm to herself.