Rats.

[Duvazl]

Characters: Aislin, Viridis, Zyn, Rex (Also played by Zyn)

Setting: Big city (Name pending), alleyway.

Player's comments: I think we were all getting a little retarded near the end. At least I was. Will probably post previous logs later.. as the story might make a little more sense after reading them.

The alleyway absolutely reeks of rat piss, festering garbage and possibly an aborted fetus or two. The last thing anyone would ever expect to find there would be royalty, especially in THIS part of town. And the young prince knows this; in fact, that’s exactly why he came here to begin with. He was downright sick of it. The escorts, guards breathing down the back of his neck everywhere he went, high expectations. Of course, the idea of being king one day was marvelous, and he had no intention of leaving /permanently/, but little Rex just needed a break. Never mind the fact that he stuck out like a sore thumb, what with the velvety navy blue cloak that tapered to an end just inches from the ground. He is neither particularly fat, nor particularly scrawny, and stands at more or less the average height for a child his age. His platinum blonde hair, judging by the darker coloration of his eyebrows and thick, long lashes, will probably darken considerably with age, and despite being cut short, it’s also incredibly messy, giving his otherwise kempt appearance a roughed-up, just-came-in-from-play quality - much to the dismay of his parents, no doubt. He has been crouching in the alley for a considerable length of time now. It seems that every time he gathers enough nerve to venture out, some shady individual – or, usually, an entire pack of shady individuals – crosses his path, causing him to sink back behind the dumpster…

"I.. swear.. that there should be a -door- back here," Comes the fervored, forcefully reassuring voice of Aislin, somewhere near the entrance to the alley. On the right side of said alley is a tavern, whose structure Aislin has seen time and time again, and they -always- have doors on the -side-. Her brilliant plan is that she and Zyn should sneak inside the side door - which doubtlessly, in her mind, leads to a little hallway which will contain a set of stairs - and go up, to ransack through the rooms for some new digs. Of course, they could always use some of that money Zyn stole to -buy- clothes, but it seems much more logical, to Aislin anyway, for them to save it for something a little more serious. And so she pulls him into the alley by his arm, half-expecting him to run away. "Oh, Jesus," Just as she takes a few steps into the dank alleyway, the -smells- hit her nose. The clip clopping of her heels stop for a moment, as she adjusts - though her head falls forward in protest, deliciously chocolate curls falling about her face. ".. bleugh, honestly.." Where are one of those doctor masks when ya need one? Too bad her doctor is a fake.

“But.. why not just-” His words are cut off by Aislin’s insistent presupposition, the remainder of his breath escaping him in a soft sigh. “If you insist..” Zyn’s own nose wrinkles as he’s dragged into the dark alley, the sight of their forms immediately sending several fat rats, one in particular the size of a small housecat, scurrying into, under, and behind the big, smelly dumpster. “..Igh.” Despite this, he follows Aislin’s lead (albeit just a little reluctantly), his elliptical pupils immediately expanding as they move into the shadow of the building, and out of the late afternoon sunlight. It’s almost worth dishing out a fistful of money, just to avoid that rancid odor, but he scans the walls for a door anyway, if for no other reason than to humor his violet-eyed accomplice.

"-Because-," She gushes once more, and it's obvious they've been debating about this for a while. "-Because-, I have no money, and no home now, and besides the money you -stole-, I don't think you have much either, and we should really be thrifty about this.." Yes, Zyn will soon discover - if he hasn't already - that Aislin can be as stubborn as a tiny little nurse-dressed mule. "I do insist, metal-eater." Despite the seriousness of her tone, Aislin offers him a cute little half-smile, before continuing into the alley - pulling him along, of course. Rats don't much scare her, so when she sees them scuttle away she merely scrunches her nose and looks toward the tall, dirty brick wall of the tavern. Indeed, there is a door, which she discovers as she clip clops just past the dumpster. Hopefully any clothes they find will be -clean-, unlike this alley.. and perhaps to reiterate that mental point, Aislin lets those purple pools dart around the alley; from the wall, to the far end, and back, down at the dumpster…

Sissies. It isn’t all THAT bad. If Rex weren’t holding his breath and biting his tongue at the moment to keep from attracting the attention of the two …strange… practitioners.. who’ve suddenly appeared in the entrance of the alleyway, those are surely the words he’d be spouting at them. Despite his upbringing, and slightly spoiled demeanor, he’s no squeamish /girl/! He’s dragged plenty of slimy, slithery, creepy-crawlies into the palace, and not all of them smelled like a basket of roses. Still, a fat, razor-toothed rat is enough to send even Rex leaping into the air with a shriek – and that’s exactly what he does when an especially massive one comes scampering straight towards him from ‘round the corner of the dumpster. “AAUUUURGH!!!! GETAWAYFROMME!!!” Never mind the doctors, whom he seems to have temporarily forgotten about.

Well, if Aislin hasn’t already discovered it, Zyn can be rather laid back when it comes to most situations. That isn’t to say that he’s a complete pushover, mind you, just that he’s more likely to roll with an idea than take up even more of his precious time whining and complaining about why it’s not such a GOOD idea. As he’s offered a little smile from Aislin, he feigns one in return.. his nose still slightly scrunched. His lips had just parted to make a remark when he’s abruptly interrupted by a nerve-splitting shriek. His pupils, which had already been rather wide, widen more still, his tail bottle-brushing as he simultaneously spins ‘round towards the source of the noise. Gotta love them cat-like reflexes. “What.. on..” The words are forced through clenched teeth.

Yes, it's probably not one of her -best- ideas; however, it's a good enough reason for them to be in an alley so suck on that. The sudden, girlish shriek makes Aislin release Zyn and spin around on her heels (somehow managing to stay afoot in the process), coming face to face with a tiny little boy - well, not exactly face to -face-, more like face to two feet of space above a platinum head. Without saying a word, she lets her gaze drop, to stare down at the terrified little boy - though she's not all that tall herself, there is -some- space. What the.. " .. hell?" What on -earth- is a tiny little boy doing in a disgusting, rat-filled -alley-! More appropriately, why does he scream like a girl? Thinking on that makes her giggle, but she tries to choke it down; it's not nice to pick on little kids, or so she assumes. "Ummm.." Casting an awkward glance to Zyn, and then back to the well-dressed boy, Aislin raises a dark brow. ".. you.. okay, kid?"

What on hell, indeed. Rex doesn’t even notice the pair of perplexed stares being cast upon him at first; he’s too busy doing a quick little foot-to-foot dance while shaking his arms frantically at the rat, which has by now retreated somewhere beneath the dumpster, and off the face of the planet it seems. “Oh. I… Uh.” A pair of wide eyes dart between the two, bearing too much brown to be considered green, and to much green to be considered brown.. a deep shade of hazel would probably be the best color to call them. Maybe a dark, brownish olive. “I was just trying to scare it off!” He quickly snaps, rather defensively at that, as if sensing the laughter trying to escape from both Aislin /and/ Zyn at this point.

Suuuuuure he was. A dullish fang bites down on his lower, grayish lip, the corner of which twitches slightly as it stifles a little smirk. He exchanges a quick, quizzical look with Aislin, and shrugs a shoulder gingerly. Once the initial humor has faded, though, reality surfaces, and Zyn is the first to ask the question that’s probably buzzing through both their minds at this point. “..What are you doing here?” Resting his hands on his hips, he leans forward a little to cast a pale, scrutinizing glance down at the platinum-haired youth, who appears to be somewhere between six and eight years of age, if he had to guess.

The young woman seems to stifle her laughter rather well - thinking of dead babies, probably, and there may very well be a few in that dumpster over there. Ah, but this is a -child-, alone in a rat-infested alley, and the situation should probably be approached with a -touch- more seriousness. So she sinks into an attentive silence, as Zyn asks that imperative question. "You lost, cutie?" Her own question is chimed in after Zyn's, and despite her near gigglefit at his expense moments ago, she seems all sunshine and daisies now - with a charming little smile that rarely fails when it comes to children, though she's not so sure about this one.. Her arms drop to her sides, that head tilting questioningly - not realizing how comical she and Zyn must both look to the boy: a strange, gray-man in a lab coat, and a shortish woman in a rather Courtney Lovety nurse's uniform. Ah, well. Another smile.

Young? Certainly. Naïve? A little, sure. But there is something very, very strange about these two, and something tells Rex it’s not just the way they’re dressed. Despite the fact that he’s more than a little nervous, he manages to shoot Zyn a most distinct wouldn’t-YOU-like-to-know look, before his attention is abruptly redirected to the kneeling nurse-lady. “N-no.. as a matter of fact, I happen to know /exactly/ where I am..” Those large eyes, either of which is framed by a thick cage of dark brown lashes, stare directly back into the soft violet saucers of Aislin, one of his knees twitching with the briefest of urges to step further back against the grimy brick wall. His own imagination is squeaming with disturbing thoughts of what these two plan to do with him. Cut him open? Poke him fulla needles? It’s too dark to see the odd complexion of the tall one, or his tail for that matter, but Rex can tell there’s –definitely- something not right about him. And the woman? Despite her soothing tone of voice, he can’t help but be more than a little suspicious.

Zyn, sensing the child’s apprehension despite his outwardly crotchfloppery demeanor, decides to take a step back and let Aislin work her wonders on the boy, rather than overcrowd him all the more. He remains attentive, however, taking in every detail of the boy, from his articulate speech to his superfluous attire, which, oddly enough, appears even more out-of-place than the outfits /they’re/ wearing.

That smile remains, genuine enough, as she kneels a bit more to become eye-level with the crotchfloppery little punk. "So you know full well that you're in an alley, surrounded by rats and probably a lot of bugs.." Those words trail off, as she casts a slow look about for emphasis. "Well, we are too, so you probably think we're crazy, right?" Come on, who can resist the puppy-ness of her voice, and those cute, purpley eyes? How much does it really take to melt a little kid, anyway? "And you're dressed really nice, too. You're going to get your clothes all dirty in this alley, you know.. shouldn't you be at your home?" Again, her cajoling is probably not as effective as it could be, considering that -she's- dressed like a nurse, and is quite dirty already. However, Aislin decides to rely on whatever cuteness she posseses, as an older, 'mysterious' woman, and offer him one of those dazzling smiles - hoping like hell that it doesn't turn out to be some sort of strange, feral grimace. Knowing her luck, it probably will.

His dark brows furrow beneath his softly sloping, yet currently noticeably creased forehead. Well, she does have a point. He is surrounded by rats and bugs, yes. And weirdos, don’t forget the weirdos. “Yeah.. well.. shouldn’t you be helping sick people or something? I’m not sick..” Call him cute and innocent if you want, but when it all boils down, Rex is a crotchfloppery brat. After all, he is used to getting what he wants - nothing less, but sometimes more. And he’s certainly not used to being questioned. “What are you, anyway, doctors or /detectives/?” His eyes dart from Aislin to Zyn in what was intended to be a brief glance, but his gaze sticks. Holy cripes, it’s got a tail?! Now, he really does back against the wall with an audible whimper.

“Neither, actually,” Chimes in Zyn, in that airy, yet matter-of-fact tone of his. He’s pacing along the length of the alley at the moment, scoping the entrance out for anything (or, more specifically, anyone) unusual, all the while enjoying one of the cigarettes he so masterfully pilfered from the apothecary’s..

"Well, you could -get- sick, if you keep hanging around all these rats.. have you ever heard of the plague?" Now she's just being mean. Forcing another smile onto her lips, she casts a little glance back, towards Zyn, as if asking him for some help. Though Aislin hasn't been around many kids, the ones she -has- have caved a lot faster. Looking back to the little, almost royal-looking boy, Aislin shrugs a shoulder. "These are just costumes. We were about to go into this tavern.. and look for different clothes." Slowly, the young, vertically challenged woman stands up to her full height - plus those heels (her feet are doubtlessly killing her). "Well, if you don't want our help, then I guess you can stay here, in this dark alley, with all of your disease carrying friends." Despite how reverse-psychology-y it may be, Aislin says it in the most -serious- tone imaginable, as she makes her way over to Zyn. "Metal-eater, you ready to go inside?" And just as easily, she continues talking as if their conversation hadn't been interrupted in the first place.

Diseases… ohgod. He hadn’t even thought of that. Swallowing, he finally manages to pry his now-even-wider eyes from Zyn’s ever-coiling tail, only to return them to the short, violet-eyed woman. He doesn’t speak, though; instead, he takes a moment to actually listen to what she’s saying for once. When she finally does dismiss him, turning away, he relaxes his tense posture just slightly, inching away from the wall which, in his mind, is now squirming and alive with billions upon billions of nasty, slimy germs just waiting to feast on him! Shudder.

“’Course, m’dear,” Murmurs Zyn, his own tone sounding every bit as uncaring as Aislin’s does now.. though, in truth, completely insincerely so. One would probably not think of Zyn, of all creatures, as one to have a soft spot for young’uns. Not upon looking at him, at least. Anyway, nasty alley aside, a child his age really shouldn’t even be /outside/ the alley. Not alone, anyway. Not if he doesn’t want to get killed. Or robbed. Or caught and sold. It’s a wonder to Zyn how the child even got this far to begin with, unless of course he came from inside the door that they’re about to enter. Flicking the still-burning butt of his cigarette into the dumpster as he passes, he pauses at the doorstep to cast Rex a final glance. “She’s right, you know.. it really isn’t wise to stay out here. If you’re not going to come with us, you’d best go somewhere, kid. If you really knew where you were, you wouldn’t be here.” Having said that, he turns away from Rex to follow Aislin through the door.

Oh, yes, Aislin is completely insincere as well - in fact, if the little runt -didn't- follow them inside, Aislin was planning on going right back out there and just -scooping him up-. He's pretty small, and though she is, too, she figures that she can take him. Casting the rather terrified-looking boy another pointed look, Aislin stares, a moment too long, before opening the door - which provides no resistance at all - and steps inside, with Zyn following. And, just as she expected, the door opens up to a dingy-looking little hall, that stretches straight for a while, with a turn right - probably the way to the main tavern. To their immediate left is a sort of broom closet, half-ajar (and she's almost tempted to peek inside..), and a little further up, and left, is that elusive staircase. "Aha! Toldja." Outside, though not to Aislin's knowledge, a fire is steadily building up in the dumpster - if that's not enough to scare the boy, what is?

As the tiny wisp of smoke from the tip of the cigarette grows to a billowing column of greasy blackness, erupting from a small, but ever-growing inferno, the dumpster’s residents make a hasty escape – leaping over the brim of the dumpster and onto whatever may reside below. That’s the final straw for young Rex, who bolts directly past Zyn and through the door behind Aislin, doing his best to hold in another humiliatingly girlish shriek. “Wait!”

[Duvazl]

So it's indoors, then, as planned. Not so lucky as to be uninterrupted, though. Out of the corridor leading to the tavern comes a white-haired man in his fifties wearing decently tasteful if rumpled clothing, carrying a little vinyl box with a handle, and smelling of smoke. he looks easily confused but used to it, and not unintelligent. He sniffs the air and takes in the sight of the trio, halting in his tracks. The boy, oddly enough, is the one who catches his eye in the end. "Well who's this? I don't know what you're doing taking him in here, but he looks...is he someone I should know?" Familiar-looking little fellow, even in poor circumstances.

Well, if Aislin couldn't lift the child, surely Zyn could - and would, without hesitation. As the child comes rushing past in a frightened frenzy, an all-too-knowing grin curls the corner his pallid gray lips. "So nice of you to join us.." Zyn murmurs, not without a big of smugness, closing the rickety old door behind him. They don't make it far down the corridor before a voice stops them in their tracks, or at least Zyn. The dim light of the hall has reduced his large, elliptical pupils to slightly smaller, narrower ones, and as his pale, silvery eyes are cast upon the old man, the size of said pupils fluctuates ever-so-slightly, calculatingly. The innkeeper? He directs a quick glance to Aislin.. shit.

Ah, there the little tyke is. Aislin can't help but smile as he darts in behind her, cutting Zyn off completely in the process. "Don't worry, we weren't go--" However, her sentence is cut off midphrase, at the entrance of an older man. Oh gosh, can they pull the 'don't worry, we're a doctor, and a qualified, if a little **expletive deleted**ty, nurse' card? Blinking those doe eyes, Aislin remains silent until he's done speaking, before looking down to the boy, and then back to the man. "Not unless you make a habit of acquainting yourself with little boys, sir." There's something sweet, yet knowingly edged, in her voice. "He's a patient of ours, and this is part of a new program being tested - exposing a troubled child to his dream profession, immersing him in the atmosphere. You see, little Marcus here, would like to be an innkeeper one day." What. The hell. Was that. Despite the complete and utter bullshit of it all, Aislin has that nurse-smile that makes it all look -quite real-. "Your front door is jammed, unfortunately.." And she even has the disapproving lip tightening action to top it all off.

The man smiles faintly at the nurse's explanation. He glances at her outfit with some kind of vesting interest...but it doesn't take. "Wants to be an innkeeper? Really?" The odd man blinks at 'Marcus' with what appears to be skepticism. "Well," he says after a while, "I suppose I could introduce you to the owner. But...if he's troubled, are you certain it's a good idea...?" He waves back vaguely toward the corridor, suggesting it may be a tad unsuitable for the very young, not that he knows anything really. He walks past the group toward the door to look at it...let's hope he doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

And, of the three of them, it's actually the boy who looks the most surprised. Or nervous. Call it what you will. But he makes a point of slipping behind the 'nurse', appearing more like a poor, frightened child than ever. Has the innstaff been informed of his disappearance? Surely, some word has gotten out by now.. but /here/ of all places? This is the last place Rex had figured anyone would look. "NurseAnna, Nurseanna, is this him? I'm scawed.."

Uh. Yeah, Aislin? What. The hell. The 'ohshit' look is quickly wiped from Zyn's silvery features as she chirps out her explanation to the old man, Zyn's own arms folding over his chest, a black brow raising slightly. "We're hoping that with properly supervised socialization, we'll notice an improvement in Marcus' ...condition," further explains the doctor, casting the cowering Marcus a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Marcus, it'll be okay."

Her head rises and falls in a reassuring nod. "Yes. The innkeeper profession has always fascinated Marcus, ever since he found out his real father was an innkeeper, of a quaint tavern, called the Bloody Hog's Leg." The 'nurse' reaches a hand back, to gives 'Marcus' a reassuring little ruffle of his hair, before quickly and efficiently drawing her hand back, just as a nurse might. "Anyway, we really should be bringing him in now.. he doesn't take well to prolonged periods of waiting, isn't that right, Doctor?" Giving Zyn one of those appraising 'I'm not worthy!' looks, Aislin then smiles, and forcefully grabs Rex's hand, as she heads swiftly past the old man and towards the end of the hallway, and then, just as quickly - with the clip clop clip clop of her heels - to the right, into the tavern. Not her original destination, true, but Mr. Alzheimer's had to put a stop to that, now didn't he?

The interloper continues to be puzzled, turning on his way to the door. He keeps shifting his attention from one thing to another. His eyes are small and soft but potent, and he doesn't know what to do with them. "Oh dear," he says with concern. "I can't say that it makes much sense to me, but if you say so, doctor. I'm dismayed to hear that poor Rex has--why did I say Rex? Marcus, I meant. So sad to hear that Marcus has a condition. I hope the hospital is taking very good care of him, although of course I'm sure you are." He looks at the door and works the handle, finding two unusual things simultaneously: the door isn't jammed at all, and there's the scent of smoke coming from outside. When he turns back, though, he finds that the group has moved on without waiting for an answer. Even more unusual is the identity of what he almost tripped over on his way to the door. "Um...sir...you've got a...you've got something coming out of your..." He gestures helplessly at Zyn's tail, one hand swinging the vinyl box thoughtlessly.

Suddenly, the man and woman disguised as doctors have gone from being ambiguously creepy in Rex’s eye, to his new best friends. This could be fun! Tricking an innkeeper, so clever! And if he gets caught? Well, he has to go home eventually, right? But, in the meantime, what an adventure! That’s when the old man had to go and say his name – his /real/ name. His face, which was rather pale to begin with, turns downright ghostly, his grip on the woman’s skirt becoming loose as the blood drains from his now-tingly digits.. He doesn’t say anything, however, merely following at Aislin’s side, urging her to walk faster with a subtle push and a quicken of his own pace..

As if her story weren’t specific enough, did she have to go and give tavern such a ridiculous name? It’s all Zyn can do not to burst into a fit of laughter, his teeth digging into the interior of his cheek to prevent as much. The resulting expression, the way the corner of his mouth twists, may easily be mistaken as ‘thoughtful’, or even downright scrutinizing. How’s he to know the old man knows the kid? /He/ doesn’t know Marcus’ real name. “M’yes, yes, of course,” a dismissive response is given, downright /ignoring/ the bit about his tail, as he hastily brushes past the old man. Though, his tail tip does quickly vanish behind the hem of his sullied lab coat, even as he slips ‘round the corner and out of sight.

Almost as soon as she's around the corner, Aislin half-laughs, and half-inhales at the same time; a gurgly sort of noise that gets caught somewhere in her throat. There are a handful of people scattered throughout the tavern, most of them quite sullen looking and probably not curious enough to question the strange trio that just ambled inside. As if she was planning on it all along, Aislin heads for an empty table, and slips heavily into a seat - with a satisfied little sigh as the pressure is taken off those f**king -heels-. "So.." Even though there's laughter visible in her eyes, part of her wants to address something, and address it -now-. ".. Rex?”

Left behind, the poor white-haired fellow stands gaping for a few seconds, and then, coming to his senses, turns to head outside and see about putting out this fire that seems to be burning. Is there a connection between...anything? Everything? Of course there is, there always is.

Zyn barely makes it around the corner himself before doubling-over in a fit of quiet laughter, his bent arms folding over his stomach.. “..Bloody Hog’s Leg? Aislin, what the –hell-.” His words are punctuated with laughter, which has died to a soft chuckle by the time he reaches the table, falling into a chair beside his female counterpart…

It seems Rex is the only one who doesn't find it funny. Folding his own arms over his stomach, he directs his hazel eyes towards the corridor as he slowly ventures over to the table, peering up at the two laughing individuals. "Can we go now.." He impatiently drones, trying to suppress the sense of urgency in his tone.

There's a certain low-key bustle going on in here, but Aislin's assessment seems to be sound--no one is really curious about the arriving group, at least for now. There are a couple of tavern maids wandering about, and a strong-looking man behind the counter, but coming up to approach newcomers doesn't seem to be part of their job description. The light is fairly low and the conversation level just high enough to cover what the three are saying to each other.

With a glance to Zyn, she has to stifle another giggle, sinking her teeth into her lower lip before looking back to Rex. The urgency in his tone, and his stature altogether, makes Aislin's brows raise. Again, she repeats herself. "Why'd he call you 'Rex', little guy?" Sure, she's questioning him again, but she's trying to do it as sweetly as possible. If only he were in his teens, then she could flash a little cleavage to get her way - not that she's really ever tried that, but she has them and they're there, so why not? Anyway, that's off topic. That little old man could come back in any moment, and perhaps they could weasel the information out of 'Marcus' later? Glancing over to Zyn, she furrows her brows. "Metal-eater, you think we should just find a place to sleep, and bring this little guy with us? I think I'm running out of ridiculous stories.."

While Zyn really has no need for sleep anymore, it suddenly occurrs to him that, well, that may not be the case with Aislin - especially since she's suggesting they find a place to sleep now. Leaning forward in his chair slightly, though keeping one arm draped over the back of it in a relaxed fashion, he glances down at the uncomfortable-looking little kid (makes sense.. what sort of a little kid would be comfortable in a tavern like this anyway?), then back to Aislin. "Sure.. here? Or would you prefer we find another place.."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Rex tries his best to milk the 'innocent' card. "I dunno, he's old! ...Can we go now?" He repeats his original question, this time with a bit more emphasis. He doesn't sit down, but remains at the edge of the table, staring up over the tabletop cutely - his face only visible from about his eyeballs up. A hopeful glance is cast to.. Metal-eater, as the lady - whose own name is apparently Aislin - calls him. Yes, please, Metal-eater? Irresistablepuppyeyes..

The man's not old, he's just fifty-six! But be that as it may, he's nowhere in sight. Perhaps the fire got him.

The bright-eyed woman was about to say that this place seemed fine enough, when the little kid dons that look of pure 'ohgoshpleaselet'sgo', and it seems pretty clear that Aislin and Zyn aren't the only people on the run. After a thoughtful moment, she looks to Zyn once more. "Apparently somewhere else would be best." Ah, yes, now more than ever Aislin looks quite tired - and a little cold, honestly, but given her outfit that much should be expected. Dragging a hand through her curls, she pauses for a moment, looks down to the boy, and then back to Zyn. "You don't mind, do you?" This time the smile that's offered is -quite- genuine, albeit a little tired.

Psh. It really doesn't matter to Zyn - /he/ isn't going to be the one sleeping there. Though, he seems to pick up the child's apprehension as well. His brows crease softly. "Guess we should get going, then.." Just as well, this isn't the best Inn to be crashing in, anyhow. Though the people seem to keep to themselves at the moment, well, it's really not the best side of town. Pushing his chair back, he rises to his feet, making like to leave and such.

Thank. God. His shoulders slump a little in seeming relief. Phew.. They don't seem so bad. Too bad he's really too young to know what sort of trouble he could be getting them into. The entire city's bound to be looking for him tomorrow.. and there's no way in hell his parents will be leaving until he's found.