While Will is normally very free with his leashes on his dogs, a protective instinct flairs up inside of him. He pulls them a bit shorter. In response, both dogs sit at Will's feet, patient as ever, ignorant to the turmoil spinning out of control in their master's brain.
"He's - " Will fights to say something. His mouth closes, jaw clenching. "Must have seen a squirrel." Take a breath. "Sorry."