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Drustan Carmody sighed, frowned, ran a hand through his hair and then sighed again. He had specific instructions to locate a specific person but no idea where that person could be found or even whether the name he was given, Emerald Blue, was a name or a place or perhaps a password. Damn his family and their cryptic codes. At the first breath of possible trouble the Carmodys would immediately close ranks, triage whatever the situation was and then start sending coded missives. Drustan, for the first time in his sheltered life, was discovering that while the code was quite simple to decipher the vague directions were incredibly frustrating.

The sun was sinking low on the horizon which meant night would soon fall. After the unsettling experience in Helios in which the politics of Panymium seemed to have turned upside down and sideways, Drustan found himself uncomfortable being out too long after dark. He was anxious to return home and check on his plagued glass of mulled wine and make sure that all the little stunted Plagues that Mrs. Grint had discovered and whom she looked after rather like a mother hen were safe. This world was not the world he was used to and Drustan did not like the rising sense of paranoia that had started to creep up on him lately.

He looked around again and sighed once more. This was one of the nicer areas of Prybridge, with high-end shops that sold a huge variety of fine products. Products that the Carmody family was often responsible for providing, generally in the form of raw materials. Whoever or whatever Emerald Blue was, Drustan was no longer certain he would find him/her/it here. Perhaps just pausing for a drink might help him focus. Perhaps he should just go home.

"Send me a sign. Something. Anything." He muttered under his breath, raking his hand through his hair again in a nervous gesture and further disheveling his constantly disheveled hair. He needed direction. He wanted his mother, which was ridiculous. He was a grown man of nineteen who did not need to rely on his parents. Except... he'd always relied on them before. And he hadn't exactly been given a great deal of preparation regarding being the master (more or less) of his own fate. "This is ridiculous." He added to no one in particular.

Not being the most sturdily built individual, Drustan stumbled when someone bumped into him from behind, his arms windmilling in an embarrassingly comedic fashion to regain his balance. He knew he looked like a fool. Clumsiness was often a symptom when he felt uncertain about people or things, a trait that he had tried to wish away most of his life. He steadied himself fairly quickly, straightening up and turning around to see who had nearly caused him to fall over.

The thought that he might have been pickpocketed didn't even cross his mind, though someone with more worldly experience would likely have been far more suspicious. The boy who had run into him, Drustan noted, was young and well dressed. Younger than he was, though probably not by much. Drustan was prepared to write the young man off as just another godless heathen when something clicked in his brain.

"It's okay..." He replied, feeling a little flustered. Socializing when it wasn't for business purposes was not his forte. Then again, perhaps he could view this interaction as some sort of business transaction. That brought his confidence level up slightly. "I know you." He added cryptically, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"I suppose it's better for me that you don't." Drustan smiled wryly. "As I would be hesitant to discuss the place where we both were. You are quite outspoken about your pumpkin though." He didn't know what made him say it. He wasn't generally so up-front and blunt. But he was also still badly shaken and uncertain which made him bold. And in any case, he wasn't sure he liked the way the boy looked at him and there was a little (well, maybe not so little) piece of him which badly wanted to unnerve the boy.