While the female mabari seems to tolerate the presence of the two-legged companions who now fuss over her injuries with both ointment and magics, the sight and scent of another dog has her pupils narrowing into defensive pinpricks, her wolfish hackles raising, and a low, guttural warning growl rumbling deep in her chest.

"Careful, fellow," Loghain bids Garahel with a quick glance, respecting the animal's intelligence, then grimaces at Inessa. "Some drunken lout downstairs talked about betting on a wolfdog in a dogfight across town. I showed up and found her like this." He does not elaborate regarding by what means he wrested the animal out from under the control of her previous master; like as all, his bloodied knuckles might have something to say about it.