You know I’ve never seen one. But I thought of your house. They’re not your sigil, I know, but I thought they’d have to do.

[He watches her choose a piece, watches her eat it, then nearly smiles and takes a sip of his ale.]

This place... people remember me, but I don’t remember them. They think well of me when I’ve done nothing to deserve it. When people think well of you, you don’t want to disappoint them.

At least I didn’t disappoint them in the past.

[He hears a shift in the foliage, sees another little flash of gold.]

What are these creatures, the ones that are hiding?