Old and decayed meat, but still meat. The hunger is so all-consuming that at this point, even Faith looks like a promising meal. Yang crouches down and launches herself forward, loping towards Faith on all fours, spittle trailing from her open jaws.

She'll feint, quickly, to the right before leaping, attempting to goad Faith into an opening the werewolf can exploit; a low, animal cunning, a hunter's cunning. But she attacks heedless of the strength Yang knows Faith possesses, or the bone-blade clutched in her other hand.