Artaith marches along stoically, not eager to either trust the horses nor burden them with her weight. She begins to unpack her gear as Philemon tethers the horses in the unkept yard. She jumps when the creature in the stables makes a sudden sound, and immediately readies her axe and shield.

As Philemon prowls forward, she snorts brusquely. "Pretty sure it already saw us- at least heard us," she grumbles- fairly quietly. Quite contrary to Philemon's desires, she suddenly raises her voice. "Oy! You in the kennel, there! We ain't here to hurt anybody. Come on out, so we can talk face to face, eh?" Her blade and shield remain in hand, but both are lowered- fairly unthreateningly.