“They marched back to the kitchen in silence, the only sound being Rufus's growl when Dunford tried to pet him."Can a rabbit growl?" he asked, unable to believe his ears."Obviously he can.”

“Growl he would, from the moment the petting began till it ended. But it was a growl with a new note in it. A stranger could not hear this note, and to such a stranger the growling of White Fang was an exhibition of primordial savagery, nerve–racking and blood–curdling. But White Fang's throat had become harsh–fibred from the making of ferocious sounds through the many years since his first little rasp of anger in the lair of his cubhood, and he could not soften the sounds of that throat now to express the gentleness he felt.”

“Oh, come on.” Jatred scooted back on his butt, trying to put some distance between himself and the animals. He frowned at them and protested, “I can do that too, you know… growling and all. I’m not impressed.”

“This is mine," he growled into her ear. "Say it.""Say it Jessica. Say it.”

“Of course the cat will growl and spit at the operator and bite him if she can. But the real question is whether he is a vet or a vivisector.”

“You okay now ?" he asked."Okay."He tightened his arms and lifted me off my feet. "Mercy?" he growled into my ear. I wrapped my legs around his waist. " Yeah" , I said. "Me too.”