Sarge can't help letting out a quiet whine as the bread makes its first appearance, and Daine gives him a reassuring pat. Quickbeak lets out a quiet squawk and pecks at the bread, being careful to avoid Peeta's fingers.

"She likes it," Daine says, though it probably isn't needful. Anyone could tell as much from the rapt way the bird is slowly demolishing the offering. Once Quickbeak has finished, she leans forward to examine Peeta's face closely. He looks like the boy with the dog, she observes. They could be from the same nest.

It happens sometimes, Daine says ruefully, thinking of Andrew and the Doctor and Peter.

The boy with the dog and the boy with the bread. Quickbeak rustles her feathers, then gives Peeta a liquid-smooth nod of acknowledgement. Even for a crow, she's curious and observant, and she's picked up a little of what she fancies to be 'two-legger manners.' Thank the boy with the bread for me, she says before taking off, and Daine can hear the flock murmuring the title to themselves.

"She thanks you," Daine translates dutifully, grinning up at the departing crow and the rest of her flock. "They're calling you 'the boy with the bread,'" she adds. It's a much better title than 'stork man.'