So long as the Templar and he had it worked out who stood where in the hierarchy of this admittedly unorthodox pack, Garrett saw nothing wrong with careful displays of reckless violence in public places to keep it that way - it was, after all, the way of his people, both before and after the breaking of their curse. That his thought processes were more wolfish than human when he stood on four legs only underscored the situation. Garrett hadn't truly meant to harm Alderic. If he had, there would have been quite a lot more snarling and mauling, and Templar or no, the man would have lost at least part of his limb before the mages could leap to his defense.
It was all settled in Garrett's mind, though, the second he let go. It was clear, to him at least, who was the alpha male in this particular relationship.
To Bethen's side he went, though the mage was less happy to see him than before; why the dominance nip (and it was no more than that, surely she could understand that) upset her so and changed her scent to stress and uncertainty, he didn't understand. He couldn't help lolling his tongue in a canine sneer as Bethen lit into Thais, however, proving once and for all who amongst the two of them was the top bitch. His tail was even starting to waft slowly as he watched the Senior Enchanter get her just desserts - and when Bethen spun and stalked away, having made her position clear without need to resort to teeth or claws, Garrett made a whuffing, humming sound in his chest that sounded conspicuously like chuckling.
The Templar and the Senior Enchanter got a flick of his golden ears, and then he was off his haunches and on Bethen's shadow, pacing gamely towards the Chantry, all good humour and fluffy coat again. Time to see how the Chanters liked Bethen's canine companion!