sintruths / paradox !
The sun sets, ushering in the night sky; time hurries forward, and still he wanders about the streets with little to no answers. Frustration begins to glosses over his features, brows gradually creasing closer together to signify his current demeanor. Teeth previously grit together now part, and his voice, slightly unbridled ( to match his mood ) whispers a few choice words under his breath. Whispers though they might have been, due to quiet atmosphere surrounding him, it comes out louder than he anticipates. Despite this, he remains unconcerned, until of course, he hears faint footsteps lingering behind him. His gaze peers up from the pavement beneath him, and soon shift to meet the gaze of man. Had this been any other situation, he’d walk away, and think nothing of it—yet this time around, it had felt as though the man before him had something to say.
“... Uh... can I help you...?” The tone he uses is untoward, as is his remark.