*Squints Suspiciously*
Nic knew that Nate was fine. That he wasn’t leaving, or in trouble, or too unhappy. But he still found that his new stomping grounds revolved almost entirely around Nate’s place of work. It was fine. There was plenty of trouble to be made in such a thriving area; secrets the learn, fights to start, general tomfoolery to get up to. On a good day, before noon he could pickpocket at least a dozen people, steal a few wands to pass over to the Death Eaters, spread some convenient lies.
He’d just finished picking a rather heavy-footed witch’s purse, and was passing one of the knuts along his knuckles, when he felt eyes on him.
“Need something, chaton?” he asked, eyes raking up and down the lanky man who was openly staring at him, not bothering to hide the purse or the coin.
@luka-petrov