He chuckles. “As long as you return him to the Temple and its yard eventually.” Which he’s had to cat-proof for the sake of the local bird population, though its success is debatable considering other cats keep showing up.

He takes a long, long sip of very much non-sacramental wine.

“I… it really is good here, despite all the trouble and death that occurs.” He scratches at his neck, the scar that circles the whole of it. “I’m settling, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. It’s been…”

His eyes widen a little, gaze cast somewhere distant. “Over a year. I never thought I’d be able to say that.”