Sam entered the coffee shop, the soft jingling of bells above him signaling his entrance. He cast a glance across the room while opening the door, noting the man by the cash register, a group of people in a booth not to far away, and a few other customers scattered in other seats. Surprisingly packed for a small town coffee shop, but Sam didn't think much of it. Just as he moved across the threshold, a dark haired girl hurried pass him out the door, jarring his shoulder on the door in the process.
Sam held back a cry of pain, grasping at his muscle as he moved to the side and let the door swing shut. He gritted his teeth and tried to force deep breaths through his nose. In, out, In....God, it burned below his skin, making him want to rip his wings out and let them heal in the Californian sun. But with those FBI agents so close, and is lack of ability to escape, it was better to keep his massive extra-appendages hidden, even if it was causing him horrible, mind melting, atrocious pain.
Quickly, Sam moved out of the front entrance and ducked into a booth. His shoulder continued to throb in pain, but now seated and some what hidden, he could let himself adjust to it without fear of prying eyes. After a moment, he was able to look up and see that the woman behind the cash register was busy helping someone with there meal, but he expected she would come help him soon enough. He leaned back in the plastic covered seat, letting his head rest against the padding while let out a whistle of air. Great start to a day, really. But as soon as his damned wing hit, he would be off to Asia, Alaska...Africa. Somewhere with an A. The FBI were closing in to fast, he needed to disappear for a bit.