Alistair isn't fully convinced--fresh from a bog or fresh from the long journey from a bog, either way, he should probably insist she get some rest or something first, but.

Pheasant. Fresh.

"All right, all right," he says. He slows to make sure she reaches the first set of stairs ahead of him, but he's only a step or two behind her on the way up. "You've bullied me into it."