Salvia crouched low, her ears forward and her tail high. She was stalking the squirrel, a fat and stupid thing, as she practiced daily. Her large paws did not allow for much silence, but she was working on her lessons with the single-mindedness of a hunting cat. Green eyes narrowed and locked on her target, and wiggling her rump in anticipation, the puppy prepared her spring. With a powerful leap she rushed the fat thing, jaws wide, puppy teeth going for the kill.
This time, at least, she was lucky. Her teeth sunk into the neck of the squirrel. It screamed and began to twist in her jaws, and Salvia tightened her grip and shook her head furiously as she had seen her father do with Harlowe. She tossed the still-living animal into the air, caught it, and then killed it in another final shake. Pleased by herself, the puppy began to chew on the animal. She did not kill because she was hungry, and it showed; instead she began to drag the thing along and use it like a toy—imitating the cat she so admired.
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