Had one of the other dogs done this, Pierrot would have half-killed him.

It would have been mutiny, and the man must be master.

But Baree was always safe.

A touch of the Willow's hand, a word from her lips, and the crest slowly settled and the snarl went out of his throat.
Pierrot was not at all displeased.
"Dieu.

I will never go so far as to try and whip that out of him," he told himself.