"I suppose it would be," Hank said thoughtfully, looking up at the buildings and then chuckling softly to himself. "Wouldn't that be a sight. Me. Leaping up there like... like one of those superheroes from the comic books." Hadn't Baba mentioned that earlier? Hank rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about it, but not too seriously. Sure, his body was built for movement, and he might be able to run about the rooftops if he wanted to, but he wasn't a hero. Not that way. He had no training, he couldn't fight, and he was a doctor. He was supposed to want to help people heal, not go look for people to beat to a pulp if he didn't like what they were doing.
Her hand did the trick to silence him when she spoke next, and he bit his tongue, mulling it over for a moment before he nodded. "I could be out," he said quietly. "And I could reap the benefits of having my feet unbound. It wouldn't hurt as much. But then what? No patient wants to be treated by a sick looking doctor. And there was no contract presented to me guaranteeing my job in the event I have a rogue activated gene that makes me a mutant. And in any case, there's the dress code policy requiring shoes. They don't make any for gorillas." He was making excuses, yes, and he knew it. But they were legitimate reasons.
He looked down at her and suddenly felt ashamed of himself and of his fear, but he couldn't help it. He folded his arms over his chest. "It's an easy thing to say, to be proud of something that others find abhorrent. And maybe you don't just say. In which case... I admire you very much." He looked over at his socks and shoes, unable to decide if he needed them back on or not.