"Strand," Lamentation isn't in the paperwork, but Obeisance was; so he doesn't expect pushback. "Warden. Out of your hair soon enough."

He slings the box onto Barrow's bed. Here, have that back. His gaze is steady, and if it'd be kinder to look away, he doesn't. The hand out is calloused to shake.

(Pale and sweaty and unable to stop trembling, the last thing he'd wanted was anyone's kindness.)

"These your cats been about?"