Funnily enough, the commander leading a ragtag group comprised solely with animals used to be scared by dogs. And rightfully so, considering the barely-domesticated canines of his childhood were trained to track and kill thieves like him. Even after discarding his humanity to disguise himself among friendlier company, he still was set on edge at furious barking, memories of search hounds snapping at his heels interrupting his thoughts until he distracted himself. Beck couldn't help but flinch as the throaty barking of Zimavich sounded from deep within the marshland, disturbing his search through his hoard of objects stolen over the years and confirming a trespasser had stumbled onto their land yet again. Grumbling profanities in his native tongue, the poltergeist fumbled for his trusted dagger, figuring he would need to cut down another stranger from a trap.

    Ancient blade clenched between his teeth, he was quick to arrive for once, slipping through clawed brambles to pause at the bear dog's nauseating side. Glossy eyes burned into the cattle dog unfortunately not ensnared by one of his defensive creations, but rather by man's interference. Beck gave a hesitant sniff, unable to pick up much of the stranger's scent through Zimavich's reek besides traces of fear. After a moment of squinting, he finally discerned the muzzle held fast around Axle's snout -- "Oh, ya got one of those thingies, don'tcha?" the little feline wheezed out, dropping his dagger from his razor-sharp jaws into his grip. "Lean down a bit, I'll try not to hurt ya," he croaked, patting the mud for Axle to put his head down on so he could reach before wearily inching closer. If the taller dog lowered his head enough, Beck could slip his blade under the main strap tethering the cage to Axle's head, beginning to saw with an awkward grasp around the dagger's handle yet practiced method. The leather was sturdy, but the knife was even more so, and after less than a minute, one strap was severed. Was that enough or would the others need to be cut as well? Just to be certain, he moved onto the side bands next, impatience making his work sloppy yet swift, and hastily recoiling as soon as Axle's muzzle was freed. As for the chain around his neck, that was a different story, but either now the unfamiliar canine could slip the entire contraption off or someone else would know how to finish the job. For the moment, Beck watched the dog with suspicion returning to his amber glare, tilting his head to the right for a better view.