Quickly emboldened, she came a hand’s breadth nearer him, snapping at the black tip of his nose.
He retreated to his haunches, but directed a swift cuff her way.
To this she responded with hoarse laughter and yells of “To-o-ny!” as if she summoned the canary to witness the encouraging progress of the fight. Then she stalked forward once more.
Tomasso wrinkled his face. Their positions were unpleasantly reversed. In Gabrielda’s domain it was she who backed off or sought the safe places, and he who sallied out from his cozy nook by the range to scare her into noisy protests. While here she was bristling to him. His paw poised itself in mid-air.
