The god of canines was worrying the bone of a demon prince when one of his pack--the dog spirits that wandered the universe for him--arrived in the cave Fenrir called home.
"Master" the spirit began "The rival"--Bast was not referred to by name in Fenrir's cave--"is journeying to the plane of earth."
Fenrir looked up from his bone. "What could be happening to make her do that?" While not technically a violation of the agreement, journeys to earth did test its boundaries.
"Master, she goes to a human place called Glendale."
Fenrir stood on his four legs and shook the moisture of his cave from his fur. He used a god's equivalent of the legendary canine sense of smell to sense the place called Glendale. The canine spirit seemed strong in that place, but there was something off--subtly wrong--about it. And there was a stink of foul magic. It would bear further investigation, and Fenrir had all a dog's inquisitiveness.
"As do I" he stated, and prepared for the journey.