Myna disappeared into the building, and the strange black and white wolf followed.

Had they also heard the voice? Were they running for cover, or chasing Myna? Or—

A growl echoed in Mal's chest as his paws pounded the ground, flattening twigs and sending water and pine needles flying in his wake. It didn't matter. The danger the voice warned about—hell, the presence of a disembodied voice at all—was enough to push Mal forward regardless.

No time to slow down, or approach carefully in case it was all some sort of trap.

Throwing caution to the wind, Mal leapt through the gap in the doorway and into the gloom beyond. Before his paws even touched the floorboards, a flurry of snarling, snapping teeth and fur launched itself at his face, and a body collided with his.

If he'd had the time or presence of mind to reflect, Mal might've found it morbidly amusing that this was now the third time in barely a day that he'd been in this situation. Or similar enough situation.

That had to be some kind of record for truly abysmal luck. Maybe he was cursed. Either way, he definitely should've stayed in bed.

Mal twisted, snarling and swearing, and tried to avoid being pinned or boxed in against the partly-closed door. Jaws snapping, he lashed out at the stranger, teeth ready to catch whatever he could. Normally, Mal would've showed a little more restraint. Said something, at least, in case this was another misunderstanding. But panic and current circumstances left him on edge, primed to face some ambiguous threat.

For all he knew, this one.

So Mal hit fast, and hard, hoping the vicious display might at least intimidate the stranger into thinking twice about continuing this particular fight.

If they didn't back the fuck down, mysterious voices were gonna be the least of their problems.