The creature does have a choice here, even if either one wounded its pride. Eventually, its gnashing stops as Saturday continues to mock it. Enraged as it was, it knew all it had to do - all it could do - is lie low. Be patient, until that moment of weakness comes. It wasn't just rage, but vengeance and hatred as well. Vengeance could wait.

The beast's form becomes more canine in appearance as it calms itself. A lean coal and ash body with a long maw like a sighthound. Its teeth were hidden in its jaws at last. Its whip-like tail stood straight up, alert and unyielding. It seemed to be more guarded than purely aggressive, now.

"So confident. I wonder what she will think... once she finds the truth of things?"

It wags its tail with interest.

For Guts, this is an odd conversation Saturday was having. It's true, the thing could manifest only through the armor on the physical plane, but it still felt frighteningly real in his head. When he spoke to it, it felt like he was speaking to himself. He wasn't sure what to make of it, whatever the hell it was.

Let them get closer to you, it's all the more to lose.

"Shut up. Not even a day's passed I'm already sick of you," he growls back to the hound, lacking any sympathy at all. "Beat it."