Yara chuckles. "Stress and going into heat? Well, one solution to that we're about to do right now. The other, you can take up with James." She nods, claws extended, ready to deal justice to those who tried to exploit her kind.
Smashing through the doors, Rebecca sees about a dozen stunned bikers inside, with about half as many scantily dressed women, and a handful of non biker patrons. As she charges in, she sees a number of bikers drinking against the bar. They rush to the side in a panic, or jump over the bar, but one man, fatter and older than the rest, isn't able to escape, and Rebecca's horn impales him through his biker leathers. Someone screams, and the biker bartender pulls out a shotgun, before Yara jumps in, looking for the moment more like a panther than a domestic cat, and slashes the man's throat. The non bikers run away in terror, while the bikers scramble to arm themselves with guns, knives and blunt weapons like baseball bats and pool cues.
