[Kit has scooped one of the wriggling nugs up to prevent it from darting out into the corridor to become dinner for someone else--hound or man, hardly matters. He glances Yngvi’s way; probably best not to make mention of how often he had nug as a meal when he was a duster kid.]

Need me for somethin’? [Yngvi asks, and that snaps him back to himself.]

Oh, [he starts, cracks a hesitant grin, and ambles further into the room, to put the squirming nug back down with the rest of his companions. Straightening, he chafes a hand against the closely cropped fuzz of hair starting to grow across the crown of his head. Time to shave that back.] Just wanted to swing by, check on you. You know. [He gives Yngvi a brief, meaningful look, then takes an interest in Foie Gras in the corner.]