Leofwine nodded to the half-orc.  "Father Beacom.  I can introduce you in the morning, though I cannot promise his help.  The man seems convinced the hound is somehow retribution for our sins."  The constable shook his head, his eyes narrowed a bit in annoyance toward Father Beacom, "as if our fate were already sealed."

Cedric glanced at the interaction between the halfling and the elf, staring for a moment as if something bothered him.  But then dismissed the thought.  "It doesn't matter," he mumbled as he sat himself on one of the benches, resting his back against one of the supports and closing his eyes, intending to sleep just like that with his hand still clutched around the hilt of his short sword.