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“Of course I did, Patches,” Russell said. He watched the large owl as it flew away, deciding that trying to deal with the larger human wasn’t at all worth it, “I know how being eaten feels, it’s the worst.”

He then shrugged.

“Besides, even if I hadn’t been eaten before, I couldn’t just let it eat you anyways. You’re my friend,” he added, “It looks like you weren’t hurt anywhere, and that’s the main thing. Do you want me to take you inside for a bit?” 

As far as he was concerned, Russell hadn’t really done all that much. He was just doing what anyone should have done if they saw that the owl’s prey was a tiny human.

He had thrown a rock. Not to hurt it, but to frighten it, and it’s haste to get away, it had let go of the medic. Russell had made sure to catch him after. 

“It’s okay, you had a bit of a rough morning from the looks of things,” he said. He walked slowly, just to ensure that Patches wouldn’t fall again. He started to head back towards the base, “No problem. I’ll get you home safe, but I think we might have gotten some cinnamon rolls shipped in this week. I can check first if you like. You can have one.”

Being properly spooked from the experience, Patches had wrapped his arms around one of the scout’s fingers to hold onto it out of comfort and stability. Human hands were very unpredictable in his experience. 

However the talk about getting his favorite treat of all time defiantly caught his attention- it would be mimicking a dog’s enthusiasm when the word treat was spoken. Patches eyes lit up with a small gasp. 

“You have those in your base now!?” Patches squeaked.