The distraction buzzing around him had Tony wrinkling his nose in confusion, trying to twist to catch a better look at it and startling with a crackle as it bloomed into a whole Jan. It took him a beat to recover, and he was reaching for those deadly looking fins before he realized it, static tripping along the spines before his fingers could reach them. He had to draw himself back, chastising himself for being so distracted by colours, sinking into the coil of his tail on the ground as he answered, "An anchor." He went back to trying to dig it out of the rock for what seemed to be a fruitless moment, sounding annoyed as he explained with a tap to the hole in the thing, "Called a piton. A chord goes through here, so you don't..." He wanted to say fall, but that didn't seem right. The logical explanation felt more ominous, so he was muttering when he finished, "Swim away." That wasn't a very pleasant greeting. Abandoning the piton, he rerouted to straighten again with a quickly assembled smile. "Good morning, by the way, sweetheart," he said, hand out in a more respectful offer.