Nat pants, pitiful whine leaving her lips as the deer crumples to her feet, mangled and bloody. God, she's so hungry. Her mouth waters, heat pumping between her ears as the scent of raw, fresh meat overrides her senses. She's barely begun unfurling her body when a twig snaps, and her eyes blow wide at the sight of you.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck—

"You're gonna—gonna stay the fuck back!" She snarls, jaw quivering. Shit. She can't hurt you. You can't see her like this. Not you.