He was looking straight up at her when her glance fell on him again.

"Non, you are not going to run away--you are going to follow me," she whispered.

"Come." The babiche string tightened about Baree's neck as she urged him to follow.

It was like another rabbit snare, and he braced his forefeet and bared his fangs just a little.

The Willow did not pull.