The dog chuffed at him, clearly uninterested in his lyrium or his throat when there was seafood in his bowl, warm and tasty. He settled down on his belly to lick at the bowl when he was finished.

"I don't think he dislikes you either," she said with a look back at her hound. "He could be much more aggressive if he wanted to be." She grabbed the scrub brush beneath the counter and set to work scrubbing the dishes she had. "There's a clean towel over there," she added with a nod of her head towards the other side of the counter, briefly lifting a wet hand to point, which only succeeded in getting water on the counter. She rolled her eyes at herself.