And that was all it took to reel Sarah in, really. She petted his head before scooping him up, tucking him in her arms comfortably as she briefly checked him over to make certain he wasn't injured in any way. Satisfied, she turned and moved back into the hotel with the cat in her arms, closing the door behind her.
"Better keep you inside, that way you don't get more lost before someone comes looking for you," she said, crooking a finger to scratch under his chin in that spot as she crossed the lobby, her direction clear – the kitchen.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, though obviously the question was rhetorical – obvious to her, that was – as she didn't expect any answers. She simply had always talked to her pets and doing so had only proved to be wise once Peter had revealed that Guinevere could communicate with him. Now, even if Sarah couldn't talk their language and understand them, she still talked to Guinevere and Kat as though the cat and duck were any other individual. "I bet you probably are. There's the other half of the chicken that Guinevere had for dinner, or there's tuna."
Yes, she had every intention of letting him decide. Cats were notoriously finicky eaters when someone's pet, and sometimes even when they weren't, and it was no hardship for Sarah to feed any of the Hyperion's pets something more than 'traditional' pet food, especially when she personally thought it smelled absolutely disgusting.
When they reached the kitchen, she bent and pulled a rolled up mat out from within one of the cupboards, unrolling it near a corner of the counter space before depositing the cat on it.
"Now, if you want to be on the counter while you eat," she said, bending down so she was eye to eye with him, "you have to stay on that mat, okay? Not everyone likes feet on the kitchen counter, so this keeps them happy."