Cedar was still feeling anxious about having at least some kind of seeds to work with, while he and Mme. Matilda walked to the stables.  The stench of the city was overpowering, and the stable did not smell much prettier.

At least both were better than the dungeons, he crossly thought to himself-- but it didn't really help much.  He would be very glad once they were out of the city-- Not only would the smell be significantly less, but the risk of his being seen and causing rumor (and maybe panic-- He'd noted that humans sometimes became uncontrollably afraid upon seeing him for the first time) would also be substantially less.

Maybe there would be an opportunity to get really, truly, and properly clean too?

He really hoped it would pan out-- the lingering reek of the dungeon clung to him like a fat bloated tick.  Sure, the others probably couldn't smell it, but human noses were next to useless-- he knew he stank like the dungeon, and the stink was not a good one.

After more hurried shuffles through back alleys and side streets, they came to the stables at long last.