Copper, do you think you would have killed Tod yourself after Chief’s accident? Would you have sought him out personally and killed him without your master there to shoot him?
Copper opens his mouth to quickly oppose the idea, but the words dry up in his mouth. Suddenly, it's as though there's sand filling his throat. Against his will, he's forced to recall his anger.
He can vividly recall the boiling rage in his stomach that night. He had never felt such a profound, strong emotion in his entire life, but that night, it was nothing but emotions. Fear. Sorrow. Betrayal. Hatred.
He knows he would have killed Tod if he'd gotten the chance. That night, he would have. He's had nightmares of it many a time since then — jaws snatching the vulpine down to his level and fangs ripping through his fur like paper. Gutting him like a fish. Shaking him like nothing more than a chewtoy.
It horrifies him. The hound shakes himself frantically to banish the thought from his mind.
"Leave me alone! I don't have to answer that!"