Taking off is the most awkward part, if only because it involves a lot of heavy flapping and Andrew's well-placed to feel it. She aims for the top of the awning, first, wanting to get a little height before she starts out over the traffic. A few two-leggers throw surprised glances her way when she appears, but she's fairly confident that none of them are in a position to see Andrew (unless they're peering out of the windows above her, and isn't that a pleasant thought). Resisting the urge to ruffle her feathers, she throws another glance over her shoulder to make sure Andrew's okay, then opens her wings, launches herself off the awning and flies out over the street. The air isn't very sweet, but it's warm, and it isn't long before she hardly has to flap at all, but can just ride the thermals up and over toward the park.

She takes it slow (for a hawk), mostly out of mindfulness of Andrew's injuries and the assumption that slower speeds will mean less wind buffeting him about, if nothing else. But it's also a rare view of the city; he might as well have a little time to enjoy it.