A knock came at the door waking him, he blinked and noticed something odd at the edge of his vision.
Kaelen stared at the goat.
The goat stared back. Its fur was the color of old parchment. The morning light caught each strand, turning the coarse hair to threads of gold and grey and something that looked almost like rust. Its golden eyes held the same look of a hunter, the same predator's patience he remembered from the dark beneath the capital. It did not blink. It did not breathe. It simply waited, its head still twisted at that impossible angle, its small hooves clicking against the stone floor like dice rolling across a table.
"Theron?" Kaelen said in shock at the systems description.
The goat bleated, a noise that managed to convey disappointment and amusement in equal measure. And beside him, a pig lay on his pillow deep a sleep, he pocked it and it snorted in its sleep. One curly horn twitched against the fabric, leaving a small dent in the linen.
