The Sentinels there lies a leafy island

Clueless to the timeline of children, he hadn't really expected her to notice and start towards him.  So when she did... and, as a result, moved further from the intended target... Dante wasn't sure what to do.  Pick her up?  No.  He wished she was correct, and that Lasher was magically appearing to whisk her away.  But a cursory glance around had proved that false.  "Not your da, little one," he said, smiling despite himself. 

He settled for a less direct approach, one that would keep his head well away from her.  Instead of leaning down to pick her up by the scruff, as was instinct, he moved in slowly and lightly touched her side with a large paw.  He'd attempt first to herd her back in, because some base warning clicked that said touch like that was better.  He'd learned to heed such things.  Hopefully she wouldn't spook when she realized he wasn't who she thought he was... he smelled of pack at least.  Her father was there too.  He felt a flash of guilt and regret - he should have told Osprey he was coming by.  He hadn't expected to actually interact with the darn things, of course, but if she was here she could do this better than he.  She had yet to show signs of catching his cold, thank the gods.