Chase moved when Owen did, shifted so he was more around the corner than in the way, sitting down against the floor. He was still in view but out of the way, wanting the pooch to know exactly where he was. No one was going to jump out at him.
Looking back to the dog, he drew his hand out slightly to let it rest limply on the floor but out of the way, palm down, to be sniffed in case the dog wanted to. He imagined that the pooch would likely make a direct line for the more familiar smells, but it didn't hurt to offer. "Alright, buddy. Go on." He glanced to Owen, briefly, not wanting to take his eyes off the dog. "Do...you know if she had any clothes from home? I mean, everything in here might smell like her, but maybe something he actually knows would help."