After dressing yourself, you harness Brute up and, with a degree of terror, bring the ape with you from the East Tower.
Shocking no one, Brenton is gray-skied and foggy as you step outside, trying to recall Kitty Harlowe's directions from last night as to where to meet up with Steward Fig in the ante meridian. Several passing soldiers eye you and your traveling companion suspiciously as you walk.
Brute, for its part, assuages the soldiers' concerns by throwing heaps of dirt in their direction. It trusts no one, including you, and is not shy about showing its displeasure.
When you try to correct its behavior, it goes into a flurry of hooting and rolls on the ground like a hog. First my tunic, and now this, you think with a shake of the head. There is certainly no love lost between you and the beast this morning.
Onward