The growing bundles of energy and fur are certain to attract attention from plenty of people and certainly many animals. Like other dogs, for instance. Milday is no mabari, could never hope to become so meaty and broad, no, to be fair, as intelligent or deathly loyal. But she is a dog, and there are puppies, and she is going to investigate the shit out of that.

Oh, and also Adelaide, because Milday loves people she isn't ordered to attack, but there is an apricot colored fuzz cautiously approaching, giving each pup a sniff, and when one yips and takes a stance to play, so does she, her whole body becoming a silly energetic noodle of joy.

Malcolm shakes his head when he, eventually, enters the barn, but doesn't stop the play from happening. "She must have smelled them in the air," he says, apologetically. Then he glances between Adelaide and the clearly mabari pups, then back to her, eyebrows raised, bemused, amused. "I'm sorry, did you suddenly just turn a little bit more Fereldan?"