Grouse Thicket Hakkerskaldyr.

Tulimaq liked to think of himself as a pretty decent guy, and when it seemed as if this stranger was struggling a bit with something, he let it slide. He wasn't about to call her out for being slow or dim-witted, as not everyone could be born with all the right genes. She'd survived this far with -- well, whatever it was that plagued her. Hopefully it wasn't contagious. If it was something she contracted via the bird, he didn't want anything to do with the grouse; except, then she mentioned having a bum leg and something about giving the bird to a Neef, as a gift. The man squinted a bit at that, unable to hide the flash of concern and skepticism as it rolled across his face.

Firstly, that bum leg — that must've been a lie, because grouse were pretty slick little birds and hunting one down took a little skill. Maybe she was a savant. That would explain a lot.

Mostly Tulimaq was concentrating on the whole.. Gift... Concept. You want me to throw a dead bird at someone? He spoke slowly, enunciating, as if speaking the request aloud might make this woman understand how odd the request was. He frowned, and with a flick of his tongue over his lips he mumbled, I don't think I've met anyone by that name. You keep it.