Grouse Thicket but we can overcome

One of Niamh's butterscotch ears flicked backward when he repeated the name she'd called him. All she expected next was for him to get all condescending, get all bristly because she'd called him 'dude' and had caught the bird he'd had his eyes on, and try to take it from her, so she remained where she was, slightly on guard. Instead, though, he laughed- and it took Niamh a minute to figure out whether the laugh was meant in a sinister fashion, or if he was actually tickled that she'd called him 'dude.' The idea was actually quite laughable- of all things, he certainly did not look like a 'dude.' There was a wildness about him, swimming in his eyes and clinging to the thick, bristly coat he sported that looked like it had protected him from just about everything. This guy wasn't some pampered pup; he'd lived. 

Just as she'd tickled him with her nickname, the one he gave her caused her to snort and giggle. "Shield maiden?" She asked, wondering if he'd called her that merely as revenge for calling him something as silly as 'dude.' "Never heard that one before." She confessed. "But, uh, thanks? And birds...Birds are sort of a specialty of mine." She said, gesturing briefly to the one that lay on the ground by her feet. "Like the taste of them, and love the feathers."