Buckbeak turns around three times before lying down. It's a habit he picked up from the Dogman.
He's not tired, but he's hungry. If he doesn't want to kick up a fuss, he'll have to do something else to take his mind off his hunger. So, he'll sleep.
But how strange, that his friend hasn't come tonight. The Dogman knows how much Buckbeak has hated being cooped up in this bad-smelling, bad-feeling place for an entire set of season changes. Buckbeak knows his friend doesn't like it either--there's almost never any smell of sky or grass on him. Buckbeak knows some Men are glad to stay inside these structures nearly all of the time, but not the Dogman. They were happier in the seasons before, when they were out on their own, hunting together.
Later, he wakes. Now he's ravenous. Though the window is large enough for him to force his way through it, he knows the Dogman doesn't want him to go hunting on his own. So, he kicks up a fuss. A loud fuss.
And soon, someone comes. But it's not the Dogman, it's his friend, the one who smells of wolf at times. Buckbeak's so occupied devouring the rats he's brought (fresh-killed, just the way he likes them) that it takes him a while to notice how sad the man is. He stays there for a time, stroking Buckbeak's feathers in the same way the Dogman does. Buckbeak pushes his beak against the man's face, glad to have been fed and wishing there was something he could do to make him not be sad.
He thinks it helps. The man puts his arms about Buckbeak's neck and stands there with him. Soon, he goes.
Belly full, Buckbeak turns around three times and settles in for the night. His friend will come. Tomorrow, he's sure.