"Little kitty!?" the halfling shrieked as Rodger's paw swung around the edge of the doorway and plastered it right against the side of the doorframe, its bones breaking and grinding, and claws piercing through the chain shirt which apparently it wore under its dark, grubby and many-pocketed shirt. The last thing it saw was Dora's own transformed claw raking across its face, and only darkness after as it slumped down like a doll in the tiger's grip.