“After the bowl change, I go in.” Marcus asked, “Without equipment?” “Equipment signals a threat to a trauma-response animal. Just proximity and stillness.” “That’s insane,” Marcus said. Wren looked at the door. Beyond it, Titan paced, breath fogging the glass. “Probably,” she agreed, and began deliberately slowing her breathing.
She stood outside the door for six minutes, settling into absolute stillness. Then she opened it. Titan charged. Marcus’s hand went to the emergency seal. Wren didn’t move. She stood in the threshold as 180 pounds of dog hurtled toward her and stopped. Three feet away.