Neverwinter Forest lxviii. bring it on back, bring it on back

Lótë blinked in surprise as the she-dog pattered closer on broad paws, struggling not to let her shock show upon her face as the shadows shifted to reveal the wounds that littered her face and neck. The cloudberry swallowed her horror at who might've done such a thing and yipped playfully in return, dipping low in a bow as her tail swayed happily. 

Dancing towards the woman on energetic, hopping steps -- she bounded closer and pawed gently at the mastiff. Her movements were slower, more tactful, than they might usually be. She feared accidentally tugging on the wounds and causing further injury to the stranger. 

After a moment, she straightened half way and cocked her head curiously. "Lótë," she dipped her head, attempting to gesture towards herself, wondering if the woman spoke the common tongue.