There's a hum of agreements. Of maybes. Of 'no way it looks normal.' Of the maybes starting to insist and lean towards the agreements. That's good enough for Yondu.

He whistles, arrow hovering in front of him in the middle of the air for a moment. There's a few blinks of, 'maybe that's not normal', whispers in the crowd but an underreaction from people that don't normally see things defying gravity on a daily basis.

He starts whistling in quick succession and the arrow zips into the house, red streaks visible through the window, loud chnnk sounds heard as it slams wood and plaster and stucco relentlessly and dust starts pouring out. And somehow that little arrow makes the place cave in, and he catches it in his hand, beside his head, without having taken his eyes off the crowd. He wanted to be sure they were watching.