Wendigo took a moments pause, taking in the logical words of the cape in front of him, the reminders weren't even exactly necessary but they helped bring for him back to a state of sensible mind. The trench coat was offering him a way out, without violence, and wasn't exactly saying he was going to arrest him either... But that was enough. That non-saying of 'I'll probably still try to arrest you' was enough to keep Wendigo on his claws, as it were. A long breath sighed out of the beast, another twinned growl echoeing soon after, setting the windows behind the HLA man once more wavering with the sound of the underlying whine that accompanies the otherwise louder and deeper thrum.
The beast shifted its stance once again, the head shifting shape first a short it become a falsified resemblance to a bat, if the skull of that bat was on par with a grown man's. Ink lashed out into the air around Wendigo, cloaking him for a short moment before falling away and revealing a new, skeletal form that was nightmarish in its improbability. Smaller than the wendigo form before, this form was sleek and painted a candied scarlet, even if the skin itself was translucent and showing the bones and organs underneath. Six sail-like wings adorned themselves to four arms and two hind legs, a bat through and through, with flaps of flesh attaching to the two foot long tail that extended from the spine of the beast. A sugar skull was painted on its face, emphasized by the skeletal and lightweight frame of the Changer. Claws adorned each limb, faintly curled and digging into the tile to the best of its ability, and chitin made itself apparent around the top of the skull and shoulders.
Two ruby red orbs were sat in the eye sockets, as Jericho let the chiropteran lips pull into an otherwise terribly unsettling smile; the facial structure of a bat not meant to make any kind of human expression, but hey, that didn't stop him from trying. This form didn't allow for speech though, and no amount of trying would fix that. Oh well. Wendigo stared at the man for only a second or two longer before he bolted, powerful arms and legs, even as thin as they were, rocketed the monster forward and over the head of Freischütz in front of him, slamming into the glass behind the hero with enough force to rip the door off its hinges, the chitin covering the head and shoulders allowing the Changer to do this without near as much damage to the form as could have been done.
There seemed to be a crowd outside the shop, and Jericho was willing to bet they were surprised by the sudden explosion of movement and glass. He gave them a grin too, just for kicks. He then took to the air, each sweeping flap of his wings sending air rushing through and past arms and legs. A long chittering peal of noise left his maw, pitched in such a way that he just couldn't get under control dammit! Leaving windows and the glass of cellphones vibrating visibly. If not cracking outright, or shattering in the case of some store windows nearby.
He turned in the air, powering four arms with sails of leather stretched between them, and quickly attempted to vanish from sight by landing on the roof of a building a good ten minutes away by walking from the Which Wich. He could feel the impact of some fast moving objects hitting his shoulders and his head, jolting him with faint amounts of pain... Then he felt one sink right against the top of his head and the patch of skin just above his heart. Bullets? Rubber bullets?! He couldn't fathom how the other cape was hitting him, and he didn't care; instead choosing to power himself faster still through the air, his wings making impossibly hard to ignore flapping sounds that echoed in the quieter parts of the neighborhood he flitted over. Moments later, he landed.
The moment feet touched the ground, his form shrank away into his true, human, shape, excess mass sloughing off in small clumps of ink as his stomach filled with the rest. A wasteful meal by his standard but, beggars can't be picky, right? And oh man oh man was he utterly terrified of the night's recent happenings, the fact that he had been lied to by a presumed hero! Who does that?! Then again... Presuming the guy was a hero was probably a stretch. Was he the kingpin that the lightning chick made comments about? The name escaped him, but caution about where he would be committing ANY sort of act would (hopefully) make the forefront of his thoughts. Maybe.
Jericho knew that he had probably made some amount of noise on the building he had landed on, but as far as he could see, there weren't any openings up onto the roof. A quick assumption that would probably cost him if any other heroes were near enough to have seen him, or heard. So he relaxed, falling on his butt and letting out a high cackling laugh that died away soon after, stress and andrealine fading from his consciousness. "Holy hell... Jeez. That was too much."