John scrabbles away the second Hickey gets off him.

This is…not good.

“Hickey, let’s talk about this!”

Or. Or you could chase him. That’s happening now.

John’s fur goes on end, his tail poofed out, his ears flat against his skull.

Yep. That’s fear all right. John hisses and starts running on all fours, trying to dash away, knowing exactly what this was, exactly what Hickey was doing.

“Quit feeding off my fear!”