It watched as the canine moved, though it did not seem to be hunting or searching for something to maul. The dog could bite, if needed, but it hoped very much to avoid such an altercation. So it did as it always had, and watched as the beast drew closer.

The canine moved and the covering fell from its head, and it spoke in a distinctly feminine voice, in words the dog understood, at least a little.

Moving a bit closer was a mistake, for it was accustomed to the silence of an incorporeal body. A paw hit a nearby branch and it crunched, and the dog of Rensley froze like the snow surrounding it. An unfamiliar sensation of a heart hammered deep behind the cage of its new ribs.