Ragz
The black dog seemed to resist the glow of the campfire, her coat clinging to the deepening shadows. She looked to where Aly pointed as if she understood common, but then cocked her head at the human woman, confused. A moment later, she'd turned her attention back to the hares sitting her rump down and staring--a clear canine signal that she was waiting patiently to be fed without begging.
Ragz made a rumble in his throat, perhaps the elderly kobold equivalent of ahem. "It seems to Ragz that a stray black dog only partakes of meat if the kill was... merciful. Even then, a dog avoids offal. A stray black dog is much trouble."
Both kobold and mastiff remained at the cookfire, watching as Aly busied herself with the hares and the remainder of the food prep, Ragz offering to help in any way possible, the mastiff eyeing the hare quarters impatiently.