She paused momentarily.
"The tune is almost over. Leaving it unfinished would leave it to linger incomplete forever." She said, otherwise showing no sigh of acknowledgement. She placed the silver flute back to her lips and continued her song.

Werewolf. Male, young, but not a child. Bad-tempered, but posed no threat. Probably could withstand another 2 minutes, 47 seconds.

She knew all this by smell, and by his voice. She had learned to notice these sorts of things.
Her song would be finished in 90 seconds. From the last note, she would leave David to rest in peace, in the halls of the warriors in the Great Mountain.