I've begun warming up to Fenton's roommate Bob, getting over my initial suspicions about him. Being a shrike, he catches insects and impales them on sharp objects in order to tear out their guts with their claws. It's messy, but he's careful to wear a bib.
Those of us in the co-ed dorm had a campfire last week. We insectivores were looking forward to it since it was our last chance to chow down on masses of bugs before the cold weather killed them off. I handed out my quills to those who wanted to roast their six-legged snacks over the fire.
Bob contented himself with eating the insects. My original worries were due to my discovery that shrikes also eat small mammals (like bats!), but so far Bob has stuck to the exoskeletal consumables. He comes from a family that isn't well-off, so they couldn't afford to have mammals on their diet. He seems to never have developed a taste for food with fur, which is fine with me.
The campfire lasted until dawn. Bob, not used to flying at night, had fallen asleep so I carried him back to the dorm. I suppose if he can trust me to do that, I can trust him.
