Lion Head Mesa aon

A shadow crossed her, and as she looked up she saw the radiant gaze of a Baskerville hound; inky black and giant. He had an air of superiority about him. Mo wasn't bothered—she was used to being the dwarf among other dogs, and was more interested in his words anyhow.

Fit div ye wint ah? Ah'll div onything mister! The truth was, Mo didn't know exactly what a big old beastie like that might want or need of her, but if she could weasel some food out of the bargain she would indeed say anything.

Placie like this bet it has mony sma' places ye cannot rax. Ah can get in aire, hunt the rattens, mebbe find ye tint treasures? She teetered between wanting to run and wanting to stay put, although it hurt her neck something fierce to be staring up at him.