[Most of the animals have already bundled down in their chosen nightly spots, so she's spared any rush of furry tails and bright eyes giving her the once over. The dark cat nestled on the couch in the nearby living room they pass before the kitchen blinks wearily but pushes her face back into the pillows before any true cat judgment can't be felt passing over Raina. Seems she's picked the perfect (or purrfect) time to come around. Which is good, since that means Will can keep all his attention on her instead of risking her thinking he's not interested because he's trying to care for raccoons perched on his shoulders as well.

Everyone wins when she comes around later in the evening! Except for Chilton. And Raina. And Will, since...]

I hope so.

[Truth, lie, both in one go. It's possible Chilton won't go as far as being abducted, tortured, set on fire. It's possible he won't come back burned alive and with every reason to despise Will Graham's guts, to blame him for it. It's possible, though, he will. He'll come back from after Will knows. He'll be able to give him a report. To talk about seeing his and Hannibal's bloated, waterlogged bodies, potentially as a means to upset Will. He'd deserve it. To shoot bullets back at the man who'd apparently not been satisfied Chilton took a bullet to the face.]

I've, uh, vanished and come back before. Three times, actually. [Eyebrows lift and he gives a half-assed shrug. It happened to Will, why couldn't it happen to Chilton? Really, they had more similarities than either of them probably wanted to admit.] No reason to think he couldn't. It's possible. Here...

[And Will pulls a stool up to the island a little closer, one that doesn't seem as used to the others if the way the fabric on top is so much more vibrant and unblemished is anything to go by. Sit, take a load off, let Will play fetch with some water and be as good a host he can.]