Daine wags her tail, then trots around the console, nose to the ground as she takes in the Doctor's scent. After one circuit, she begins to to feel a bit discouraged. It's just everywhere, is the problem, and even her dog's nose isn't having an easy time singling out the most recent trail.

She pauses for a moment, considering her options. She should have one more shape in her before she really needs to take a break. And with Edgar and Aly and the three dogs aware of what's going on, she could afford to just be human for a while. So really, she might as well take the shape of something that hunts better than a dog.

She lets out a little huff of discouragement nevertheless, then shuts her eyes. Her legs shorten, and her shoulders rise; her muzzle shortens and squares off into the well-muscled jaws of a hyena. Now, she tries again - and oh, that's better. She inhales once more, fascinated by the myriad scents available to this far superior nose. The Doctor's trail might as well be marked by wet paint. Claws clicking against the glass floor, Daine trots off down one of the corridors.