Iggy blinked up at the voice, focused somewhere past the top of the girl's head, but he smiled all the same, twisting himself around upright, "Yeah, sure. I'm Iggy, got a break before History, you too?"
It was then that he caught the wings. He didn't see them, of course, but more often than not birds ID'd each other, as well as most of the world, by scent, and wings, or more specifically, feathers and the feather-oil, had its own distinct scent. He straightened, just a little, brow creasing, keeping sharp for anything else that might tip him off.