(barely held back thoughts of dog racism)

Yarou was not concerned with her new location, in truth. She had been many places already, and now that she had pulled herself through here, there was no need to rush herself or --

-- ah.

The akita twitched her ears, shaking water out of her fur. Yarou had gone swimming, while her mother Hakki ran to hunt crabs and feed herself that way. Hakki had always been partial to crab meat. Yarou inhaled through her nose as the man spoke to her, and she was largely impassive, hard to read. Her tail flicked. "Of course I do." She answered his question with a statement returned in the same tongue. Yarou scratched under her chin and cleared her throat before yelling: "Mother! To me!"

Within moments, another akita-- this one with no touch of wolf blood at all, smaller, more demure, came trotting close with a crab in her jaws. "Yes?"

Yarou didn't answer. Instead, she jerked her chin to the stranger before her.

"Ahh. I see...." Hakki squinted at the Hattori before she dipped her head to begin crunching open her crab; it'd already had its shell broken.