Hecate's face grew a little grimmer, but she held onto Qebhet's hands in kind. "I was almost too late," she said, turning head to look out through the French doors to the rooftop garden, and then stepping slowly toward it, leading Qebhet over. "Ares found Kaden first, and his dogs had hurt him, badly." Though the words themselves were an understatement, her tone was not understated at all. Her tone spoke of how torn Kaden had been, how close to death. Her tone spoke of how angry she was, that Ares used dogs for such a purpose. "He was too far gone for me to heal him entirely, the only thing I could think of to do to save him was to - to turn him into a dog himself."
At the foot of the potted olive tree, Kaden had dug himself under the hoodie, and the battered black fabric covered most of his body. His head poked out, though, and he was watching the women, keeping very still, the sleeve of his brother's hoodie still clamped tight in his mouth. Hecuba sat nearby as well, keeping watch on everything.