Grouse Thicket sup.

River was amused; Figment's explanation had not only confused her, but it had also kept her interest. Her gaze bounced between him and the bird, connecting two-and-two, before offering her next question: "He's not really your prey, is he?" she asked, stepping away from the underbrush that had hidden her and closer to the stranger. 

"Is he... your friend?" River guessed. There was no malice in her voice, only curiosity; she had never seen a friendship exist between a predator and it's prey.