She fed the beast raw meat, because as far as Toiréasa was concerned, the Gévaudan hound was like a dog. At least, in some ways. There were few similarities she would actually make, but when it came to parts of the care of the hound, she treated the bitch like any other dog.

“Why didn’t you name her?” Saoirse asked her, watching the beast tear into the food with a look of disinterest. Saoirse was the only one Toiréasa had known to show no fear around the canine. Simply caution.

Toiréasa shrugged. “I don’t know. She comes when I whistle. If she didn’t, that’d be fine. I’m not sure why she follows me.”

Saoirse smirked. “Good taste?”

They watched the beast lick all of the juices from the ground and break through the rest of the bone with those teeth.