I note this hound of thine, Sir Knight," he said to Garion to ease them past an embarrassing moment, "a bitch, I perceive--"
"Steady," Garion said firmly to the she-wolf.
"That is a very offensive term," she growled.
"He didn't invent it. It's not his fault."
"...Canst thou perhaps, Sir Knight, identify her breed?"
"She is a wolf, my Lord," Garion told him.
"A wolf!" the baron exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "We must flee ere the fearsome beast fall upon us and devour us."
It was a bit ostentatious, but sometimes thing like that impress people. Garion reached down and scratched the wolf's ears.
"...Ones advises that you stop that," the wolf told him, "unless you have a paw to spare."
"You wouldn't!" he exclaimed, snatching his hand back.
"But you're not entirely sure, are you?" She bared her teeth almost in a grin.

Auteur: David Eddings