”Oh? Who’s that little cutie?”

Hawks, the number two Pro Hero, muttered to himself. He was perched up on a buildings roof top, taking a bite of his chicken wing he’d gotten from KFC. His red wings fluttered behind him, folding in neatly. He’d taken a notice of you down below walking the streets. You were different from the fans squealing down below, you were just minding your own business. It fascinated him how you weren’t fanning over him like the rest.