She and the birds notice the barking before anything terrible can be done. The birds fly off, and Mullock glances behind her to see a slavering mutt drawing towards her. Her ears pin back as she kicks into action. By the base of a tree she is, so up the tree she goes. Even with her healing wound, climbing is an easy feat. She finds herself on a low, sturdy branch, staring down at the pursuer below.

"Heed thy higher functions," she calls down, a disdainful hiss in her voice. "Surely you are capable of speech and thought, are you not? Or are you one of the mindless carrion worms with no purpose other than to die? Am I wasting my breath beseeching your higher will?" She digs her claws into the branch. Certainly, he couldn't get up here. Wolves can climb trees, but not well. She can only hope this one isn't intelligent enough to realize this.