Blackfeather Woods paint splattered teardrops on my shirt

The wolfdog didn't understand everything he said but straightened slowly all the same, albeit not to her full height as if some physical part of her clung to the certainty of being at fault. The woman relaxed some at his kindness and moved to follow as a half-deciphered command met her floppy ears. Her seaglass gaze glimmered with curiosity as she trotted after Rowan's earthen silhouette through the gloom of the Woods. 

She did not question him and it was unlikely that the timorous huntress would. She trailed alongside him silently, wondering for a moment -- with a flicker of anxiety -- if he was searching for Taikon so they could deal with the confrontation at that moment.