The owlbeast's feathers smooth down again, for the most part, as Rue pets it, but it watches Raine's reaction. Whatever it makes of it, of course, it has no way to voice even had it wanted to.

There's a long moment where it glances between the two of them before, finally, giving another curt nod.

It does like music. Sometimes, at least. It liked when the purple-eyed woman sang to it; perhaps that was partly because it had been something that was, in fact, meant for it and not just Eda. And perhaps partly because Katrina made sense, in general. But the song was nice. It likes when Eda plays, too.

It makes a soft noise between a grunt and a chirp before going back to settle on—and take up most of—the couch again.