"I'm sure," he responds flatly — but he does pick a fallen twig... and then he turns and sticks it behind Oleander's ear like it's a flower. And with the barest of smirks, "Striking."

Anyway — he turns to look at the bird, again, his expression softening just a bit.

"I'm not going to scare it off before it's eaten," he says, quiet still. "We want a feather, it's only fair it gets something out of this, too. Besides, you haven't seen too many birds before, have you?" Yes, he noticed that, of course, and so he's letting Oleander look for as long as it's possible.