Ha! He hates when that happens, but then again, it was just a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. He exchanges a pleased look with his coffee mug after the first sip — it tends to lose its bitter edge post-mortem — as he starts to consider: concealing the wings will be a challenge, as usual; and he’s allergic to his own feathers, if you can believe that. It’s outrageous, an absolute tragedy, but as they say, you should’ve seen the other guy!

“_…Very little is known about the current whereabouts of Detective Malroy McKoy, who had been pursuing James Burnham”_, the reporter is saying, “_Authorities have expressed serious concerns for his wellbeing. If anyone has information, they are urged to come forward and report it immediately…_”

Too bad they’ll never be able to actually see the other guy, James smirks again as he slams his wings into the cut-out back of a rucksack. He’s gonna have to be Dora the Explorer for a couple of months, now, until they fall off again. He doesn’t bother to turn the TV off — or close the door behind him, as he slips out of the flat.

“_…That’s correct. Authorities report finding a large red splatter approximately one meter from where Burnham’s lifeless body was discovered. Preliminary DNA analysis indicates that the blood appears to match none other than Detective McKoy’s…_”