After sufficient pummeling, squawking and finger-wagging had been completed, Alice was eventually released from the angry dog-pile of upset housewives. That being said, despite them having stopped their immediate beatdown of the poor werewolf, many of them still remained at the knocked over stall, hands on their hips or crossed below their chests, raving on and on, lecturing and harshly reprimanding the poor girl. It was as if she hd a half dozen or so motthers, who were all scolding her at the same time.

Meanwhile, Brandy had managed to finally peel Francoise away from the cuts of meat on the ground, the large poodle licking itself happily around the mouth and wagging its tail in content. The huntsman was no less amused now than when the incident had occurred though, and as Brandy wiped her forehead off with the back of her arm, and let out a sigh of relief, the man approached the satyress with more verbal condemnation.

"[b]Well, what're ya gonna do about this, huh?![/b]"
"Do 'bout what?"
"[b]MY MEATS! Yer damn dog just ate half o' it and knocked the other half to the ground! I can't sell any of this now![/b]"
"... Wow, that sure stinks." Brandy replied, rubbing the back of her head and having a sheepish smile on her face.
"[b]Ain't nothin' to smile 'bout, girlie! You and yer friend are gonna pay for every scrap o' meat that menace of yours ate![/b]"
"Ma-ma-ma-mwhat!? Hey, ya old fart, this isn't [i]our[/i] pooch, y'know? Why do we hafta pay for this mess!?"
"[b]'Cuz he's with [i]YOU[/i], obviously! Who else is gonna cover my losses, huh!?[/b]"
"Iunno! His owner, maybe? That... What's-her-face... Ell... Elm... Ellen... Ellenweed...?"
"Wait... You sayin' this monstrosity belongs to that snooty old bag on the outskirts of town?"
"Yeah, yeah! That's the one! The wrinkly old lady, in the big house. We were just supposed to walk this little guy when he suddenly took off and caused all this."
"Hmm... Well, whatever! I'm cleanin' this up, then going over to that old bat and getting paid for the damages her mutt caused. Count on it! Now you three scram! Go on, get!"
"Jeez, don't get yer winky in a knot, we're goin', we're goin'~ C'mon boy, follow Brandy~"

It eappaeared Brandy had somehow managed to diffused the situation with the huntsman... By unintentionally selling out the identity of the true owner to Francoise... Which would likely cause some inquiries when the two girls eventually returned with the dog. However, all of those possible consequences seemed to fly straight over the satyr's head, as she pulled the black, not-so-stately-anymore poodle along by the scruff oh his neck. Not before she walked up to Alice's side though.


"You okay, Al?" She asked, looking at the tenderized werewolf before shooting an angry glare at the women standing in a semi-circle around the poor alchemist. "Hey! What's wrong with you aunties!? You don't just go 'round smackin' girls with rollin' pins!" She barked, apparently gentuinely angry at the women.
"Shut yer mouth, skank!" One of the women replied.
"That's right! Y'all caused this mess in the first place!" Another chimed in.
"Just 'cuz ya'll married ugly men who can't satisfy ya doesn't mean ya get to take it on my friend! Now shoo, ya ugly third-rate wenches! If ya got a complaint, go see that Elfenweed-woman or whatever."

A bit more insults and harsh words were said and hurled, before the women eventually grew weary of the satyress' apparently endless stream of rather severe and, somehow, sexually implicating come-backs. Once they dispersed - after having dumped the mud-riddled sheets and clothes ontop of Alice - the satyress let out an irritated snort, then turned to her friend again.

"Them's were some angry ladies, huh? I guess if I'd had a face as ugly as theirs, I'd be kinda pissy too. Still, no reason to take it on a pair of cuties like us, right?"