Fox's Glade Touch my soul with yours

she let the first comment slide without much input of her own; she was more interested in the conundrum of the wolf-dog than the prey (though by a very narrow margin). she was also disinterested in the dog's self-deflating comments; had she been a packmate, she might have spoken out, but as such the girl was not the therapist her father had been. 

"where were you, before?" she pressed, curious gaze settling on the dog even as the other's drifted away from her.