[There isn’t really a reason to clean up the table from their meal, but Hector does anyways. A quick clearing away of dishes, then he refills the bucket of water and leaves it on the floor. The back door and bedroom door, he keeps open.]

The hawk won’t return here, but the fox will until she finds a new burrow, and the cat definitely will.

[Hector explains as he slips a scrap of blanket over Antonius’ back, covering the fatal gouge in his side where he’d been pierced by a wild pig’s tusk. He ties it into place like a saddle blanket. It might look a little odd to a passer by, but the weather is turning chilly enough that they hopefully won’t question it further.

Cesar gets a strip of bandage wrapped around his paw. Hector doesn’t bother with his head yet; the little menace will wiggle out of them long before they encounter any populated areas.

He wraps a strip of cloth around his chest and tied it the way some of the young mothers in the villages do to hold their babies. He takes up his bag, the scoops up Cesar and cradles him in the cloth. The dog pops his head and front paws out, panting in excitement for whatever adventure awaits him.]

Such is life with pets. We can be off now.