Clemente
It's pretty hard to hold a decent conversation with a large bird that can't talk back, but Clem is stubborn. Just another hurdle in this new friendship. Soon he'll be running around in the snow with his awesome eagle hunting partner, singlehandedly supplying all of Halo with furs and meat that he'll never need. The fantasy is appealing, though the prospect of being a falconer is dampened by the idea that the dino-bird might still decide that he looks human enough to try taking a chunk of flesh out of him. Whatever the bird is thinking (can birds think in the traditional sense?) it doesn't seem to matter as much as the second piece of jerky that Clem offers. This too is snapped from his fingers and devoured in mere seconds, the boy still staring grinning at the display in total awe even as the bird brandishes its wings like shields and moves farther away. "Aw com'on I ain't gonna hurt ya," he pouts, but the cheer is still too bright in his voice to make it effective. "We can be buddies! We can go huntin' together and stuff!" Couldn't parrots understand human language? Could an eagle? Maybe it would understand and have a change of heart.
