Hushed Willows sad humming all the time

This was -- well. Not what he was used to. Valiant reeled back a half-step, as if ready to tear violently away, but there was no fight forthcoming. Instead, his small, white rump plopped into the grass while he stared, bewildered, at his erstwhile adversary. The mouthing was neither unpleasant nor interesting, so he endured it for a moment before pulling away and batting just as gently at Atwood's face with a comically large (for his body size) and clumsy paw.

"Now I'm gonna stop you," he told Atwood, "So you gotta try hard."