McCoy notes the wand, the way it's carved and curls like a narwhal horn, and it's sort of pretty, in a weird way. He keeps an eye on it, not sure what it can do, but not wanting to get on the wrong side of it.

"We don't cut people open anymore." Beat. "Not in my time, anyway. Got to, here, with the damned level of technology availab - " And then the sports page zooms right onto his wand, with more accuracy than can just be blamed on the wind. "It just zoomed to you!"