There’s a squibling on the floor, flailing around.
Poor thing. Its eyes are barely grown yet. At this stage of development, it’s almost entirely dependent on the mother squib.
Which means, in the immediate term, you’ll have to be a substitute. Perhaps later you’ll have the time to track down its mother, work out how it found its way here in the first place, and make sure that the answer isn’t “because you have would-be-poachers”. But for now, you just need to get it to your menagerie and write down some feeding instructions.
You can’t keep the poor thing, of course. They’re just too impractical to feed when fully-grown. At least they aren’t prone to imprinting, or you’d have a much bigger problem on your hands.
You take off the silly bathrobe and wrap the squib in it. That should keep it warm, at least. Then you head towards your menagerie.
Until, that is, you hear some shouting. And it doesn’t sound like someone crying about your restless spirit – rather, it sounds much like Yvonne.
You think you hear Mantis saying something, too. Well, that’s going to be awkward.
Should you investigate, or get the squib to safety first?
Who left all these hogs out???
Oh hey it’s [that guy likes animals and talks to Dean]!