It catches her attention, that unexpected ruffle of feathers. Rachel lifts her head from her arm to look at him, catching the tail end of it.

She drops her gaze, quickly.

Early, he'd done that often. Nodded, shrugged. Still getting used to the hawk. And later, as a human, he'd forgotten how to do it naturally. Needed to be reminded not to stare. To blink on occasion.


There is a calendar on the wall that could only have been put there by human hands.

Rachel tries to pay attention to the flipping over a wall of duct tape. It's not working very well.