Blackfeather Woods Never been a perfect soul

He nodded softly. He was hungry. Then the stranger offered food.
Now, Rowan wasn't stupid. Lone adults who looked like they would eat anything they came across likely would. And Black Hat was the exact picture of that.

His auds pressed forwards, head tilting. Everything screamed trap trap trap.
He called for the crows, emitting the sound that to them meant food. It was something like a puppyish howl. Soft and almost awkward.
Down some came, perching on lower branches and the ground by him.

"You look dangerous." He stated. It was a fact: one scarred eye, ragged appearance, and larger by far than he. 
"How can I trust you?"