"He's following me again," Isabela complained.
Hawke did not give her complaint the care it was due. "He must like you. You could just talk to him about it."
"I don't care if he likes me," she snapped. "I want him to stop sniffing after me like that."
She put her hands on her hips and glared at the man who had somehowmanaged to convince her that love wasn't necessarily the four-letter word she had always thought it was.
"I am going to get some bitch to follow you around the same way," she promised.
"Threats are not going to help your case." Hawke pointed back to his mabari. "I told you to take it up with Barkspawn."