Yeah, it doesn't sound too common. I've only met one or two other people on this island with wings at all.

[Once he places down the last of the candles, he takes a step back himself, surveying their handiwork as he surreptitiously hitches his scarf a bit higher over his nose.]

Oh, wow, the real thing looks way more intricate. You did a good job. [He means that, even though it might be hard to see him beaming under his face covering.] OK... light these, say the prayer ["prayer"], blow the powder, and we're done...

[...Oh no. Something just occurred to him, far more pressing than idle talk about gods or apocalypses.]

... I guess we can hold our noses when we blow it?