She watched him as he stopped before her, her ears forward questioningly and her tail moving a little with tentative friendliness. He spoke to her and her reply was a low bark, her tail whipping with delight. She thought he had come to release her....
He had known dogs well as a boy and he knew the one before him was not mad.
He heard Gorman's feet plodding fast through the grass and he waited with his blaster in his hand.
Gorman came around the tail fin, panting, his own blaster in his hand. The dog went rigid at the sight of him, the growl in her throat, and Gorman's blaster swung toward her.
"Hold it!" he ordered.
Gorman paused, and the dead eyes looked into his. "There the mad dog is—we must kill it."
"We can kill it later if it's mad. We'll watch it a while, first."
The suspicion became like something almost tangible about Gorman and his blaster started the first movement toward Thane.
"Why?"
"I think it can see something—"