Storm moving in.

Reaper's grip on the tiger's throat was strong now. His face was a deep shade of red, bloodied and focused. He kept squeezing the life out of the tiger, feeling it's heart beat in his fangs. He kept squeezing and the tiger kept thrashing but to no avail. Moments ticked by until the breaths of the tiger became shallow and lifeless. The tiger fell to the ground, motionless and cold. Reaper had done it. He had killed the beast.

His gaze shot over to the tiger that Moloch, his raven, was diving and attacking. Reaper took no time, he charged right in after that tiger too. Mae and the birds were attacking the tiger's face. As the tiger dropped to the floor, Reaper went for the lateral abdomen muscle. He bit down onto the muscle and began to tear viciously at the area. He was going to disembowel the damn thing. That is, unless Mae had killed it first. How dare it attack his mate.