[It is a sad truth of existence on Thedas that everything meat-eating found nugs delicious. This particular nug, being from a dwarven farm whose produce often graced the table of nobility, is no doubt especially tasty. His caution is extremely warranted; he does not move as Hector approaches, trusting stillness to protect him.

(Even if Myr had told him, time and again, Hector had no intention of eating him. Oh well.)

Not all of the garden is slumbering even at this time of year; Caster's enchantments keep part of it (including around the bench) quite temperate. Cheery cyclamens still showing their flowers are by one wall, while a riot of strawberry plant graces a corner. Much of the rest seem to be edible varieties, whether it's fruits or vegetables or grains. Trust Myr to be planting with his stomach.]

Hello, lambkin! Our friend's under the bench here. [The deer gives the stone a firm pat in emphasis.] He was born in a cave and finds it the closest thing to home.