Sounds fair. Feed for Useless and- whatever Sypha called the other one. Hay for the one that lives here.

[ Trevor doesn't mind the smell of the stables, of course. It's a homeish smell, like to many dogs or baking bread or Alucard's hair, though somehow he doubts Alucard would appreciate his hair or cooking being compared to manure. Comforting. ]

You were right. About the 'not hitting your head, Belmont' thing. Shit sucks. Sorry about- [ And he just gestures uselessly. ] -getting shit all mixed up.