"...Alright. Friends of yours?" he asks, both tucking away the information that she apparently knows ahead of time when tray dogs are going to show up and wondering just why they're coming.

There's a moment or two when he's not sure why she isn't getting out of his hood, and then things start getting just a bit intense. He squirms as feathers tickle his neck and something sharp scrapes across his skin (though thankfully without breaking it).