Sawyer watched her approach, fixing his eyes on her sturdy figure as she moved. He could have walked in her direction, he could have called out to her. Instead, he simply waited in silence with half-lidded eyes. His tail continued to sway behind him, beckoning her closer, until finally she was upon him.

Her gaze flicked quickly down to the feathery lump between his paws. Sawyer arched a brow, unable to hide his amusement.

"Good morning," he returned, giving his head a polite tilt. The smile on her lips infected him, and he felt himself mirroring her expression. He lowered his haunches to the ground and relaxed his shoulders, signalling that he was comfortable with her presence. Her words, however, gave him an eerie feeling -- he couldn't quite discern what it was that she made him feel, but it was certainly something unusual. His brows wrinkled and he tilted his head inquisitively.

"You could say that," he said distractedly, never letting his gaze move from her face. He did not move to offer her the bird (chivalry had never been one of his strong suits), but nor did he seem to think she might take it from him. It lay forgotten at his feet, entirely neglected. His attention had turned to her, and for now it would remain entirely at her disposal.

"How did you know I'm not from around here?" he asked, flashing her a humble sort of grin. "Is it that painfully obvious?"