"And pretend none of this ever happened? I'd be happy to." Not that he sounds it, much, at the moment. But considering everything - that's probably to be expected.

He jumps a little, himself, startled by the sudden, unexpected motion of those wings he hadn't even noticed, before. Fortunately, they're not the first pair he's seen, around here (or felt distinct pangs of jealousy over). And his mood at the moment isn't exactly conducive to asking more questions. So Hawks is spared the third degree (if not maybe a little too much staring), as Anders dusts off the sand, standing a little less emphatically, himself.

"Fine by me. I'm getting a little sick of all this nature, anyway." The city's little better, but maybe for the moment it will be.