She'd be terrified. He had to flee the door unlocked and open a gash to get back out.
Could he utilize the doorknob with his paws?
Maybe. But if he couldn't, the wolf in him would likely panic and strive to claw his way out. A wolf had to run.
Not this time. If she saw him shift it would be extra traumatizing than to reckon he had a pet wolf scuffing and roaring at the door, so he receded and banged the door.
Brad, still staring at the lid of the stairs, mumbled, "Uh-oh."
Eve caught her attention to him. "What the hell is going on?"
He jerked his head and mumbled, "Oh, boy."
Eve plop the pot of soup beside Ethan's door and scrambled back down the stairs for an "in your face" interrogation, which she'd periodically performed with the most mute felons.
"Brad, you infer something about this, don't you?"
