HE'S GOING TO BE EATEN BY A HAWK. Somehow, of all the possible outcomes of his little accident, this was one Andrew had not taken seriously. He regrets that now. Mostly he expresses this regret by continuing to scream and thrash, not really thinking about the consequences of actually escaping the bird's clutches now that they're thoroughly airborne.

The arrival of something black, flowing, and apparently loquacious does not do much to ease his mind. On the contrary, it completely derails him a second time. Andrew at least stops thrashing in order to stare, his mouth flapping wordlessly.

"What?" he asks in utter confusion. Then, for good measure, "What??"