He was annoyed and repeated, “just a little bit ...”
The owl had grown old, and that had made him even more vain and even more sensitive than he had been.
Bambi wanted to answer; I was never startled before, either, but I just said I was because I knew you liked it. But he decided he would rather keep this information to himself. He felt sorry for the good old owl, as he sat there being cross. He did his best to calm him down. “Maybe it’s because I was just thinking about you,” he said.
“What?” The owl became cheerful again. “What? You were thinking about me?”
“Yes,” answered Bambi hesitantly, “just when began to screech. Otherwise, of course, I would have been just as startled as ever.”
“Really?” the owl purred.
Bambi could not resist. What harm could there be in it? Let the little old boy have some pleasure.
“Really,” he confirmed and went on .”.. it pleases me ... it goes through all my limbs when I suddenly hear you like that.”
The owl puffed up his feathers, turned himself into a soft, brown and light grey, fluffy ball, and he was very pleased. “That’s very nice of you to have been thinking about me ... very nice indeed ...” he cooed gently. “It’s such a long time since we saw each other.”
“A very long time,” said Bambi.