Every moment she spends around Twolegs is more confusing than the last. She's just learned they can shoot quills like a porcupine, among all the other strange tools they use.

And worst of all, the dogs barely flinch. These are far, far more dangerous than the pet dogs that strolled through her territory.

"You can't control them?" Frustration leaks into her tone, but she can't just run off and abandon the Twoleg now. Instead she hares her way over in front of him, stepping anxiously in place while she waits for him. "Okay, let's go - if we find a Twoleg den we can close the door on them, right?"