[For Rogue, cleaning windows seems more like a danger room assignment. Not that she isn't down for the hard work, but the dangling angles would certainly had made for an interesting arrangement. She knows that when it comes to that, she still has a far way to go, as Peter had been the one to save her last round, letting her absorb some of his abilities to protect herself.

Her mouth opens, to offer to help, although it closes silently again. She seems to do well enough, and Rogue figures that unless her wings have sprouted magically just recently, she's likely used to dealing with them. They are as pretty up close as they are far away, and Rogue does admire them.

With a slight furrow of her eyebrows, Rogue follows her gaze, piecing together what she is getting at.]

I'll likely dream of garbage tonight, you know. How people can miss when a can is two steps away, is beyond me. But think I'm done. Been at it for some time today.