Ravensblood Forest hippity-hop, all the way to the birdie boiler

Either it did not know the name of the creature it followed, or it was appeased by its evasion; either way, Anselm did not get the information he sought. He was not so bright a mind as to trick the trickster, so he accepted this with a dull oh of course rise of his brows and subtle nod of his sooty head.

Doubting he would get any truth from this avian menace, the boy was unrelenting regardless, and accepted the bird's inclination towards further questioning. At the very least he would make his wandering more entertaining.

Where did you find your dog, then? Forest? Mountain? Sea? As he muttered the words to indicate each location, his head began to bob - bird-like, sort of - and at the end, Anselm's head centered itself and his ears tilted towards the soon-to-be liar.