Oliver continued smiling gently, watching the cub, right up until the moment he panicked. As Aegir scrambled back, frantic, Oliver blinked--concerned--and quickly moved to the water's edge.
No, just my reflection--did he scare himself..?
Oliver peered quizzically at Aegir for a moment, then nodded to the water. "It's you. It's your reflection. --And mine, too." He remained there, for a moment, gently motionless, just so as to give the bear cub some time to come over, to see for himself.
Only after waiting a long few moments--a kindly, encouraging expression on his face--did he decide to look into the whole hunger aspect of things. "Right, okay--stay, okay? Stay here. Right? Don't move." He offered Aegir a more serious look, holding up one wing-arm with his forelimb talons splayed near the bear's face, as if to gesture "stop." He then backed up some, holding that expression, and keeping his arm up, before turning and eyeing the river.
He kept himself fed on small animals, on fish; he wanted to learn to eat plants, but he just wasn't sure if it was something he could do. He didn't like killing things, but he didn't like starving, either. And he certainly wouldn't let the bear cub go hungry, if he could help it, in the long run. He knew the general rule of things: if you found a newly-hatched, you had to help them out, teach them some words, show them how to eat. Once they went off on their own--which was usually pretty soon--it helped them to... well. To not die.
Oliver hopped off the ledge, feathers ruffling outward with a loud rustle, and then glided out over the steep bank and down the river some. The telltale flashes of silvery deeper down told him where he could find what he was looking for, and in he dove, wings folding against his sides and jaws extending out as he lunged like a seal for his prey. In he went, with a loud splash, the bitter cold chilling through his fur and feathers.
He felt his jaws knock against something, something cold and firm and fleshy, and he jerked his head to that side, exhaling bubbles through his nose with effort and kicking with his hind legs in a brief struggle to remain down. He felt the fins in his teeth and clamped down, pulling up, kicking higher--then broke the surface again, inhaling deeply and blinking it all away. The rush of water faded from his ears and he heard the gurgling of the river from the outside, once more; he floundered for a moment, his wings dragging him down, more than helping him swim. At length he made shore, and half-scrambled, half-flapped his way up. Water mostly ran off his feathers, and even his black coat, but some of the fur was wet, and he now stank like wet dog and wet bird both.
Moving with a quick jerkiness, shivering a little himself, now, he carried the small fish to Aegir. A couple sharp slaps on the stone and it was dead; he bit into it some, so the baby bear could smell its meat, and laid it before him.
Then he curled up, shivering a little, and watching. "Th-that's a fish," he explained. "They l-live in water and you c-can catch them and eat th-them. B-but if you d-don't like it I'll f-f-find you grass," he managed, between shivers.
The fish wouldn't go to waste, of course, if Aegir didn't like it; Oliver would take it, instead. Otherwise, he'd have gone to the grass first; but he had a feeling Aegir wasn't a plant-eater.
{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}