She'd taken the bait without much ado, making it very easy—unsettling easy, actually—to just go. There was no violence, no yelling, nothing—and he wasn't sure why he expected anything of that nature after he'd so cruelly spoken to her. He didn't think about that, though; he needed to get out.

He avoided eye contact as moved swiftly to her side to snatch his injured owl, being careful not to make a further ass out of himself by hurting the poor bugger. He then cast one last, almost pained glance in direction before pivoting on his feet and attempting to find his way out of the house just as he'd come in.

It would definitely be a journey home.

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