The pig climbed onto the bench beside him. Its hooves scrabbled against the wood, leaving small scratches, and its body was warm and heavy against his hip. It settled with a grunt, and he could feel its heartbeat, slow and steady, through the layer of bristly fur.
"We need to talk," Silas said. "About our arrangement."
Kaelen looked up. "What arrangement?"
The goat hopped on to the bench. It landed without sound, hooves clicking once against the stone, and walked to Kaelen's other side. It sat and stared. Its golden eyes did not blink.
"You let us stay," Silas said. "In exchange, we help you. This is the basis of all contracts. Mutual benefit. You give us shelter and food and protection. We give you information and combat support and the ability to eat things that would poison you."
"I did not agree to that."
"You did not disagree either." The pig's tail curled. "In demon culture, silence is consent."
