It had, unsurprisingly, but somehow still surprisingly for it, been spotted. The dog cowered, unused to being perceived in any way, and its eyes darted about for any way out of the situation at hand. But it could not phase through the trees or disappear into thin air, and there was nowhere it could feasibly escape to unseen. Perhaps if it...

And then the canine spoke, and the fears were quelled.

No hostility, snarling or fangs flashing. Only a polite greeting and a question, and one that the dog did not know if it could answer.

It croaked in response, the sound of a voice never used, and instead of speaking simply shook its head. It did not know what an Avon or a Northfall was, but they were foreign words to the creature. It was from Rensley, but it could not tell her that.