It is Paul's own fault for leaving the box out, so far as Iskierka is concerned. If he hadn't intended to give her all these delightful toys (she had been so attracted to them only a week before, prior to waking, that they must be the epitome of playthings) then he shouldn't have left them where she could find them.

Neglecting that a leshonka's sight couldn't be foiled by a box that existed in only three dimensions. He was doomed whatever he did.

She flirts her antennae at him as he calls her name, tipping her head so far over it becomes a pressing need to pass the pencil from beak to forefeet. The pen is a greater prize, brighter in color and more intricate within, but she saw the pencil first... She considers several seconds, before stretching her neck forth with her beak gaped wide.

Give it here and she'll consider it.