Ivan
Like watching in slow motion, I couldn't move fast enough as Dylan sank his teeth into Trip's body. At first, I thought it was hunger. After all, he hadn't eaten solid food since the day we'd grabbed him, but that notion quickly disappeared when I saw what he was doing. If he wanted to eat him, he could've bitten him in half and been done with it. Instead, Dylan was repeatedly slamming Trip's body to the ground.
He wasn't clamped down on his head or throat. Instead, Dylan had him around the wings, making it impossible for Trip to escape. The rooster scratched and clawed, but he couldn't fight the werewolf who kept assaulting him. That's the only word I could use for it.
