Siegfried has started taking the griffons down to the training yard, one at a time, to get them used to him and to take the opportunity to become more familiar with them in good health. He's scrupulous about taking them each out the same number of times, to avoid accusations of favoritism, though it's inevitable that he'll connect with some more than others.

(He'd discussed his intentions with Clarisse before he'd started, pitching the benefits for taking care of ill or injured griffons in the future. Not that he knows that now, presumably.)

Today it's Artichoke Siegfied has out. Once he's learned that he'll be rewarded, Artichoke is generally willing to stand still and let Siegfried run his hands over his wings and flanks, though he's not afraid to impatiently nudge the doctor if he takes too long about it. Today, the griffon glances up at someone's approach, alert but not alarmed. Siegfried follows his gaze. "Ah. Hello."

There's no recognition in the look from the man or the griffon, though at least neither of them are hostile either.