'So.'

Earflick, pause.

'You can so easily change your colors? Just like your name, your species, your mood?'

Heavy muzzle turns, nostrils flare. Teal eyes narrow.

'So you think you're stronger, now that the gold is out of you. You think you're braver, without that pacifism.'

Snort. Black-rimmed lip twitches, briefly baring thick ivory fangs.

'You think you can really let yourself go? Hah! You think you can fight.'

Muzzle curls upwards now in a full-fledged, silent, snarl. Muscular tail flexes and swings to one side. Strong claws grip the soil as considerable weight shifts.

'You are fooling yourself, cub. You are not independent, or in the right, and you will never be strong enough to stand up for yo--ggrrgghh!'

One bound is all it takes to close the distance between predator and naysayer. Powerful jaws seal around the hairless throat, and bones crunch loudly.

The stain of freshly-spilled blood matches the red stripes that cross the coal black pelt.