He's relaxing as Libby keeps tracing on his skin, finding himself grinning just a little at the few notes of a tune she's humming as she works. Which is really why it's so easy to just cock his head to the side as she smiles at him, offers. His eyebrows knit for a second, pure confusion on his face. "What do-" he glances at her arm, at the feathers on it, and you can almost see it click in his his mind.

He'd honestly barely noticed. Had noticed absently, of course, to be able to work around it, to feel around it, but this is his first time really taking a good look, consciously reaching out and touching, careful and gentle.

"My brother has wings when he shrinks. Bug wings. He rides in my collar sometimes, and we've had to grab him. After he stings you on the nose a few times, you learn not to crush stuff like this," his fingers are moving over her arm, though, just stroking gently down her arm, over to her shoulder, a few inches down her back, moving carefully to learn the way they bend at first, until he becomes a little more sure. Interested and curious in how they felt, what they were.

"... Yeah, Steve Rogers. Captain America is..." his fingers twitch slightly on Libby's upper arm, nerves evident. "It's just a thing. A symbol. I dunno if dad even chose it, really."