The growling was too deep and rumbling for a Weevil.
“What is that?” Gwen whispered.
“Basement monster?” Owen suggested.
“I’m more interested in knowing where it is,” muttered Ianto, casting about with his torch.
“Over there.” Jack pointed to a dark opening into another area.
They advanced cautiously, guns drawn now, not knowing what they were up against.
Peering through the doorway, they saw it, massive, dark and furry. It growled again, then whined, rolling onto its back.
Ianto almost laughed. “I guess even Weevils would steer clear of a dog that size!”
The Irish Wolfhound wagged its tail. “Woof!”