The cat looks up at Astarion with its wide eyes. It almost seems to be... smiling somehow, but it could just be the way cat mouths naturally curl up? In any case, it begins to purr, languidly stretching before sitting down a close as it can to Daan's feet. The cleric in question wrinkles his nose, perhaps in disgust.

Now it's Daan's turn to look at Astarion, his single eye looking the man over. The way he talks could conceivably be one who is used to having honeyed words and weaving his way with people. Is that because he's a magistrate? Idly, Daan wonders if Baron von Dutch knew him, but he isn't keen to ask. No reason to dig up the past, not when this journey is going to be a very, very short one either way.

"Trust me, if it were possible, I would've," Daan responds with a sigh. For him, he sounds detached and tired, with the presentation of being generally unbothered by things around him. "Just try to ignore it. It'll probably leave you alone."

He holds up the jar and frowns at the tadpole inside, trying to think about their situation and how best to proceed. If they're lucky, they have maybe a week at most. It's a shame they're so far from Baldur's Gate as they are; their research potential in the middle of some woods isn't going to help.