Kuromaru growled deep in his chest, filled with annoyance. He tightened his grip on the man's throat, cutting off air. Instinct told him to bite down; intelligence told him this was a pack member.

Tsume woke and rolled to her feet, grabbing a kunai from her holster and blinking sleep from her eyes. She took in the situation with one broad, sweeping glance. It made no sense. Her familiar was attacking her teammate. Except he wasn't; there was no scent of anger, no sinuous shifting of muscles that spoke of a fight. Just a hold, and the man scrabbling underneath.

The smell of fear clogged the room. She glanced at the cubs, still unconscious but starting to look more asleep than dead.

"Raidou! Kuromaru! Knock it off!" she snarled, hanging back. She didn't want to get in the middle and end up dog bitten or jutsu'd, but if she had to she knew a few dirty tricks.

Fighting animals hated water, for one, and there was a well under this bunker. Raidou would have a lot more drying to do.