The green dog grunts, lowering himself to the ground and doing a sort of half-crawl toward Betty as she licks his face. He sighs, the coloring in his fur slowly starting to abate as he watches her and whines when he notices her limp again. He gives her leg a gentle lick before setting his head down on the cool pavement and looking up at her sadly. She's familiar, she's kind, and she hasn't run away. Only one person never really ran from him...

Be-tty? He's still a little wound, but calming down. She's certainly helping.