He might not have that innate sense of direction anymore, but Droog knows that if he’s going to stick around, he needs to get the lay of the land. Find out where he can get a good meal and some groceries. Maybe there’s a casino around, too. Wouldn’t that just be the bee’s knees.
He’s wandered into the Golden Ward now, his pace deliberate and slow so as to take everything in. It’s overwhelming, but he’s sure to get calibrated to his surroundings eventually, so to speak.
Droog pauses for a moment to peer into a shop window, his cigarette held delicately in clawed hands when something magenta catches his eye passing in the reflection of the glass. He turns his head, eyes narrowing into a squint. A Prince of Heart?
He begins to put the pieces together in his mind. Is this just another part of the game? He’s not sure why he would’ve been pulled into a completed session, and something deep within him says that he shouldn’t interact directly. He hasn’t thought like a Skaia piece in a long time, and he doesn’t care for it. So he casts aside his programming and calls out, “This your doing, Prince?”