"She is a good woman - I am glad she is remembered." Gannicus yet carried grief for the loss of her, but he would rather remember her well than linger in sadness. That was too heavy a burden, and he knew well where it would lead him.

Hild would not want him to chase her memory to the bottom of a bottle.

Gannicus smiled at the mention of the number here. "In the house lives a snake and a lizard, and Goblin the cat haunts the house and fields. The three dogs here, then in the barn a small herd of sheep. And they are why I have asked for you."

He looked a bit... well. Sheepish. "My people were herders, and it is not their care that escapes me. But I know well these dogs - they are built like the Molossers I knew in Rome - bred to hunt, to work, and bred to stand by men in battle. Bran and Foha have done their share to rid the field of rodents. As yet they have heeded me when in sight of the sheep, but they are yet young and at times excitable."

Gannicus showed Daine his forearm, which bore a shallow, healing bite. Foha slunk down in shame. We were all playing, the dog said. I forgot he is not a dog and held him. For his part, Gannicus did not seem at all upset by the injury - he could survive it well, and Foha had not intended to break skin, he was certain. But he worried what an excited dog could do to a sheep or lamb.