Geoff started with small things with the most perceived value, mainly the gems, jewelry, and gold. Seeing all the interesting objects heated his pack rat fever, but he knew to hold off. Even if he had the space to lug it all, it'd only weigh him down.
The light shuffling of drawers and chests was accompanied by the repeating growls of his empty belly. Once again with the growling. One of these days it might blow a stealth mission.
"May I have some food, ma'am?" the bear asked quietly while glancing back at the crow. "Don't worry, I'll find it myself. Thank you."
Of course, he knew the poor crow was dead, but the rare times the location was safe after the kill, he liked to speak to them a little. Despite the morbid oddness, it calmed his nerves somewhat after the deed. Granted, he didn't actually kill the crow, but he was going to otherwise, which was bad enough in his mind. He hated it, but he needed to eat, and clean work was hard to come by for him. If work came at all...