"...Lord Friggatebottom." Briefly all thoughts of rescue halt while Lorne absorbs the cat's name. It's ridiculous and hilarious, especially given the situation. With a sound not unlike a laugh, Lorne nods and gets to his feet. "Quite a moniker. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Meat, where is he going to get fresh meat in this weather, at this time of year? Everything is going to be salted or dried--

Oh, wait. Lorne's gotten several paces away towards the butcher's when he remembers he has jerky on him to keep up his energy while on patrol. The cold must be slowing him down. He digs around in his pockets for the small packet of waxed cloth. "Ah, I've got some, actually; I forgot," Lorne says, turning back towards Detlef.