Saturday is shaken, yes, but also unimpressed. The dog's threatening her with pain and death as if she's someone who's never known either. What does frighten her is the look on Guts' face. She has faith in him; he has some faith in her; he doesn't have faith in himself. That's a problem.

So she smooths out every last hint of hesitation, smiles with the full solar force of her charm, and pats his shoulder.

"That went well, I think."