She's smiling by the time he's finished. He reminds her of Lila - that girl has a story, an excuse, a cunning web of circuitous logic to talk her way out of any situation. It's the girl's poor luck that her aunt and father are able to see through it with practically no effort, and her mother is almost as good. Natasha is reminded of the great bunny con of twenty-twelve. It's a bittersweet feeling, letting those memories in.

When the forest falls suitably silent, Natasha places her thumb and pinky finger at the corners of her mouth and whistles sharply. A couple of birds take flight, a few very small rustles in the leaves, and one much larger one. An animal that it not used to hiding its presence, and easily startled.

"There," she says, her entire focus on the origin of the sound. Gotta be the dog. A moment later, she's running. Not moving quickly and carefully through the underbrush, but flat out sprinting. Her footing is sure, even though the ground is uneven. She uses rocks and tree trunks and anything that will provide her solid footing for just one step. Catch the dog, catch it quickly, and be done with this. Minor barely has the chance to start running before she's on him, hitting the ground, one hand grabbing the back of his neck, the other planted on the dirt so she can roll over the little furry body without crushing it. When she's done, flat on her back and staring up at the sunshine through the leaves, a handful of wiggly puppy, she smiles again. "Got him!" She raises her arm, and Minor, high enough for Major to see, and then pushes herself into a sitting position.