That stare could be felt upon him yet he dared not look toward the unknown for too long. He knew well enough she could not reach him while trapped within the bramble’s snare though the what ifs could never truly be banished as they sought to consume him entirely. Hoped to draw steps away from foreseeable dangers instead of willingly moving toward them as he did now. Unspoken - though all too obvious - fears forever warring against the hound’s lack of self preservation. Always one to act against his better judgment for that ever fleeting sense of belonging, of being useful. After all, it’s what he’d been raised for. To provide, to serve another’s whims without question despite what was wanted for himself.
Even now it was difficult to act against what lay so ingrained, to forget all one had learned from the flash of fang. Though if he were going to go through with an offer of assistance one could not cast sights away from the autumnal woman forever. So it is with clear hesitance that Leslie meets her own gaze, narrow pupils fixating upon her visage before the fuzziness of a central eye lay masked beneath its lashes. Leaving a more natural stare to look her over, attentions wary in how they danced over the entanglement of each limb. Sure to flicker back toward her face before sinking to how thorns coiled about her frame to price and slice; to call forth the crimson ichor which flowed through all beasts.
How was he even going to go about this? It would be entirely impossible without being stabbed or risking entanglement himself… but it was at least something Leslie was willing to try. Slow cautious steps carried him ever nearer, gaze flickering sidelong to take in any move she may make. The boy certain that when given the chance the vice grip of her jaws would be upon him in an instant, the wide grin accompanying her words no more than a façade. Eager delight a ruse as it clung to her vocals, those which came a bit too loudly. Muddled by her own accent as she declared not understanding his own but, unfortunately for her, he didn’t do dramatic.
Something evident in the ways lyrics remained subdued as he grasped for understanding. Dejection clear in the refractions of his gaze as it met her wholly, “Ooblei re nurti wer diieson.” (Tongues are never the same.) None beyond the reaches of the Drih’liri spoke in the divine’s dialect. It was something he would have to get used to but that was hard when so much still lay unknown, when neither he nor the beasts communed with could be understood in anything more than fragmented tones.
Those which continued to rise in his confusion, “Help yes, oli ear no see? You, you… bisek usv nautkyn? Jikmadator?” (yes, but - deaf or blind? Broken?) While she may have said the word herself it was still easier to grasp in a native tongue before features scrunched lightly, “No work?” Charred limb rose lightly to gesture toward his own tattered ear before it braced against the earth to steady a teetering frame. If she spoke true, regrettably, there was nothing he could do about broken senses. No matter the demands made of him. One would simply focus on what could be achieved as reluctantly sights turned wholly away, nothing but the turn of an ear to show he still kept tabs on her.
A murmur issued under his breath, lyrics meant only for himself as if such an utterance would soothe a frantic mind, “Tir ti xurwk ve krethel nomeno bveckoilt di grikadi pobon.” (Do not make me regret this stranger of autumns mark.) Not that there was much he would realistically be able to do when it came to one of her size other than merely try to defend if it came down to it… hopefully things could remain relatively peaceful. With a slow breath an unsteady balancing act takes hold, hinds shaking as forelimbs hoped to brace on anything but her despite his lack of options. As long as nothing vital was stepped on maybe she wouldn’t mind?
One would find out in time, upon the first misstep, for now he focused on the task at hand. Maw parting for an excess of teeth to snap against tangled thorn. Hating the way it pressed to the sensitivities of gums and tongues, feeling the start of blood to well where they dug deepest until pressure lay released with the snap of those thorn crested vines. If one could at least sever connections to the main brush then the nameless woman could move away from the brambles, away from further entrapment, before removing what tangled around her more snuggly.