A hug wouldn't hurt, nor would being handed a stick and being made responsible for the fire.

Cayden hugs him. "You'll be all right."

Lean. "I appreciate it."

Here is a stick. Attend to the fire.

This fire is getting so attended to. It will be The Ideal Campfire.

Next task: go talk to Astarion and make sure he still feels noticed and liked given that Cayden slept with Lae'zel and was flirting with Gale.

Astarion has his tent set up and is currently sitting just outside it. 

Cayden sits next to him and throws an arm around his shoulder. "Sorry about all the cats."

"Just a day in the life of a professional cat shepherd, I suppose."

"Stray cats always know how to find the inn I'm staying in so that they can beg me for scraps. It's uncanny."

"They're lured in by your natural roguish charms."

"Who's a flatterer now?"

Nose boop. "Takes one to know one."

More seriously: "You doing all right?"

"Hmm? Why wouldn't I be?"

Cayden raises an eyebrow. 

"I would prefer it if we got a wriggle on about removing the uninvited guests from our heads, but we do still have five days."

If Astarion doesn't want to talk about the people hunting him (presumably the same ones that gave him the scars on his back) that's his business. 

"God, it's only been two days? It feels like it's been at least a month."

"I'd almost say you have a talent for attracting trouble."

"And you don't?"

... he has him dead to rights there. "Gur hunters aside, you seem to make more of a habit out of it than me."

"I will kill as many hunters as necessary to keep you safe. --Well, ideally nonlethally take down in such a way that they realize it's not in their best interest to bother you, but."

"If we kill them--" he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Cazador is sending them. He'll just keep sending them until there's no hunters left in the Sword Coast."

"Who's Cazador?"

"My master. -- the one advantage of having a worm in my brain is I don't have to listen to him."