Was it like this for her the first time? It was so long ago, she hardly remembers--

A sound behind them makes her turn.

And who should be clambering to his feet and trying to sneak across the clearing but one fat, armored fool name of Sir John Falstaff?

When he spies her, he freezes. "A-avaunt! Avaunt, I say!" He makes a hasty Sign of the Cross. "Take thy Hotspur, and to Hell with him -- but I am an honest man, unless to be fat be sin--"

Kate curls her lips and snarls at him, beginning to stalk forward.

"Avaunt!" Falstaff tries again. The wolf snaps its jaws, and Falstaff abruptly decides that devils and demons are surely better left to priests than to him. And that being the case, he had better go find a priest as quickly as possible.

Kate barks once after him as he turns tail, slipping in the mud, and flees.