Sasha. Of course it was fucking Sasha of all people. The guy was already an idiot who took everything literally, but he was dumb enough not to realise his mistake. When he reached for the bonnet, she swatted her hand at him, her claws scratching his hand in the process. She wasted no time. If he wanted to get his ass beat, she would be happy to do it for him. She'd gotten into a lot of fights in foster care and even before that too. Foster care just made them more frequent.
One moment she was a cat and then she was a girl. It would be hard to avoid her as a girl than it was as a cat. She was comfortable enough switching back and forth that it was like breathing. Their bodies collided and he was on the ground, the shredded bonnet in one of her hands, balled into her fist.
"Delete the picture or you're gonna choke on this," she demanded, her knees pinning him down and her fist raised high.