The dog of Rensley was interrupted from its coughing fit by the sound of a deep, unfamiliar voice. It did the opposite of what was directed and spun to face the stranger, multicolored eyes round and surprised. He was a very large canine, not a hellhound but nearish the size of one. They fought the urge not to bare their teeth - there was no need for fighting, should the large wolf not start it, but the dog knew that it could bite now.

Ain't lookin' for trouble.

A strange accent. The dog had grown accustomed to the thick, lilting tones of the humans in the town, but this one was different. Odd, but warmer. It did not move closer, but it also did not move away.

In response to the question, it nodded its head, blinking slow at the wolf. The dog had not spoken before, but it attempted it - mouth opened, the only thing that came out was a hoarse croaking noise. Embarrassed, they flattened their ears to their skull and looked off to the side.

It really was so bad at being a creature.