Right. Okay. One foot in front of the other, Newt. His fingers feel a little twitchy, but he forces himself to shove his butterfly knife back into the pocket of his coat--he doesn't want to accidentally stab them, after all. But it's barely a couple feet to the nest, fortunately, so not too far of a walk, and once there, Newt's leaning in to get a better look.

"Um...okay, so it looks like we've got...four? Four eggs." He chews on his lip a bit. "Now I just gotta think of the best way to transport them."