He reached over and picked her up now, holding her now in his hand comfortably about a foot from his face. He gave her a smile. "Who's to believe me if I tell them I've been talking to a mouse?" It was an honest question. Perhaps talking animals were normal to these parts? Had he been home, and told anyone, he'd be the laughing stock of the village.
"I must ask, why do you imply there isn't a sister? I've been given no reason to doubt that fact until this very moment." He gave no indication that he was scared, despite the anxiety that had begun to dance with his bread pudding. Though a look of concern did cross his face. "What do I have to be afraid of? What is it I'm not being told?"
Jon had no intention of telling anyone of the conversation he was having with the mouse. Aside from fearing the inevitable laughter at the thought, he really didn't want any harm befalling her. Especially if she spoke the truth and was genuinely trying to warn him. She could have said nothing, but she hadn't. Could have eaten her crumbs, bid him good night, and been on her way. But she hadn't. He felt that what she had to say might hold some weight. Or, at least, should be heard in it's entirety.