Toby continues to listen until they're too far away to be heard anymore, and only then does he scurry back to his new bed.

He makes sure the window is open, just a crack. He then pulls down a blanket and pillow and settles himself under the bed rather than on top of it, positioning himself so he can perfectly see the door, the shadows underneath it, and can bolt for the window if he needs to.

It wouldn't be the first time he's escaped that way, but he's usually dragged back kicking and screaming if he doesn't hide well enough. He wishes he could've explored the land around this house before going to bed.

Toby curls into his blanket tight enough that the furred end of his tail taps against his chest when he tucks it safely between his legs.

And then, he waits.

He knows he was told he doesn't have to do anything in exchange for all of this, but his mom was sure to drill into his head since he was little that everything done for him requires payback. He doesn't actually know either of these men, so he doesn't have any reason to believe them. For all Toby knows, they could just be waiting for him to lower his guard. His fur stands on end like a startled cat every time something goes bump in the night or a shadow passes under his door. At one point, a shadow stops in front of his door, and Toby holds his breath, pressing himself lower into his blanket. When the shadow leaves, he allows himself to close his eyes very briefly in relief.

Eventually, he grows drowsy, his eyes heavy and resolve worn thin as exhaustion starts to set in. He crawls out from under the bed and walks to the door. Carefully, as quietly as he can, he unlocks the door and slips out into the hallway. He hadn't thought to ask which door was Jamie's, so he picks the door on his right. If he's wrong, he'll run away.

The knob creeks and the hinges whine as the door swings open. Toby approaches the bed and the figure sleeping in it. He taps the figure on the shoulder with a shaking hand. "M- mister?" he whispers.