The cat was quite happy to gobble that meat up, please and thank you, and now Hannibal was at least pretty damn tolerable. You know. For a people. The cat was going to demonstrate his acceptance of the people by looking up at him expectantly for another morsel.

Jono, meanwhile, was taking his own boots off (like a big boy) and changing into a pair of pajamas that seemed like the most mild assault on his senses that he could find.

Hannibal and plaid patterns. Really, now.

Still, it didn't take long before he was sitting on the edge of the bed, kind of awkwardly inspecting his own toes, planted firmly on the floor.