"Who are you?!", demanded Hildy. The old man's response was not entirely rhythmic, nor was it certain that he was responding to the question,
The name echoed, unnervingly decorating his thin, wheezy gasps between squeals. Hildy stepped back, unsure what to make of this man... another step, the wheezing grew stronger... step...
Hildy was taken by surprise this time. Her reaction was immediate, instinctual, ratty. Tensing her whiskers, she pounced upon the old man, his wheezing now colossal, and with her horrible teeth proceeded to gnaw on his head.
Again, she was taken by surprise. This old man was no human. No. His head tasted like... she couldn't quite pinpoint... Horseradish!? No, the flavour was distinctly lacking 2-phenylethyl isothiocyanates. It could only be one thing.
Hildy drifted off into a daze, it had been a long time since she had last encountered this flavour. The flavour of the dread wasabi.