Firekeeper got a good look at the look on Charlie's face. She'd seen that look before--a lean lone wolf, cousin-kind but no less dangerous for that, had shot her that look as it crouched over a half-eaten rabbit when she had been much younger. She had scuttled back then, still half a pup and unwilling to challenge one more desperate than herself for a meal.
She did not scuttle now, but she did acquiesce, though reluctantly and with a glare of her own that made it clear in no uncertain terms that she would not have backed down of her own volition. She took a single step backwards, raising her hands to show that she meant no threat, though her posture was still coiled and ready as a spring. There she stood, still and silent, waiting for this to play out.
Still in the doorway, Blind Seer satisfied himself that this would not end in harm to Firekeeper and finally sat, scratching at one ear with his tongue lolling.