Redhawk Caldera I will fight you for eternity.

He was talking, wasn't he?  Damn, he didn't know anyone that good at not even twitching an ear at his dumb comments.  I mean, yeah, sure.  People eventually would tune him out, but a complete stranger not even acknowledging that he was there?  Were they deaf?  He didn't actually seriously think that, though -- more like the sarcastic way that it gets asked. Maybe he'd eaten some spoiled meat or a mushroom or something and was hallucinating an entire wolf.  Surely, it would say something about his psyche if he was imagining someone who he wasn't familiar with.  Maybe it was a ghost!

The bird, though, wasn't too happy.  Goddamn those things were loud when they weren't really far up in the sky.  Either way, it was keen to get the hell out of dodge.  Then she turned around went right to interrogate him! Well, that eliminated the ghost theory.  Hadn't eliminated delusions from eating something, though, and now he was considering it since she did sound rather odd.  It very well could be some kind of bizarre waking fever dream unless some part of it started making sense soon.

He was obviously somewhat perplexed, one ear rotated out to the side while the other remained neutrally upright. Um.  I'm Quixote, he said, in a slightly drawn-out way that probably had an equal chance of reading like 'Coyote' or 'Keo Tay' as much as his actual name. And I have no idea what that is unless that's what you call folks with solid black fur or people who have eaten a crow.  He was still wondering if that had actually happened or if the second question had been all in his head.  If it had, man, he probably would really seem like an idiot.  He canted his head, his speech quick, Did you want to go get that bird?  The bird was loud, he was sure that was real at least. And it probably had whacked into something pretty good to have been on the ground that long.  They could probably go find it if she wanted.