your touch is atomic

ISLA It would be such an easy thing, to simply take the tiny creature's skull between her massive jaws and give it a shake, or to clamp down upon it with force enough to crack bones. And were it even five minutes before, when she'd been lost to the hunt and the thrill of a meal she'd killed with her own teeth and claws, she might not have given it a second thought. (And how interesting that would be, to force someone like Remi into reacting). But now? With sense returning - and all manner of unwelcome thoughts and feelings with it - the tigress is left with whiskers flinching in response to the swatting, tiny hands of the raccoon. Call it petulance (Isla realises she doesn't want to kill anything any more, and she's irritated with herself for it), but she settles on parting her jaws and roaring at the raccoon instead, as if to make it cease its wriggling about.