Crest watched the exchange, picking up pretty much all of it – it wasn’t that he was dumb, rather that his ability to communicate hadn’t fully manifested yet. His luminous, emerald eyes caught the light reflecting it in dazzling gemstone combinations as Laly negotiated with the villagers and he, protective battle-cat, did his absolute best to seem unassuming and less than threatening. Yeah, seven and a half feet of raw killing-fucking doom. Unassuming. Still, Laly appeared to do a good enough job and the villagers began retreating back to the village, leading the duo with them.<br/><br/>As they approached the town, the villagers pointed out a barn, just on the edge of the property. One woman explained, blushing as though embarrassed, “Would you please stay there? It’s not that we’re not thankful – we just don’t trust strangers much around here. There’s warm hay, blankets – and we’ll bring plenty of food, I promise.”<br/><br/>Crest blinked at the woman, not understanding the cultural significance of being “left to the barn” – hell, if it was warm, dry, and there was good food, he’d be in heaven. Nodding that leonine head of his Crest gently pressed himself between Laly and the villagers as they made their way to the modest-sized red barn. It was empty inside save for huge amounts of hay, a few blankets (probably for the animals or the town’s occasional guests too large to keep in the inn) and not much else. A loft – some rope and other utensils.<br/><br/>Shortly after they stepped in, the woman who’d spoken pushed the double doors leading inside open and ushered in a long table. Other villagers brought cold cuts, soup, and stew in surprising proportions; well enough to feed two ravished anthros. Then, apologetic, the woman said, “If you would please – eat, sleep, and leave in the morning. We’re not ungrateful, we just don’t want any problems.” The homely woman eyed Crest thoughtfully, and then sized Laly up before retreating, leaving the two alone.<br/>