The theater, while unexpected on his route, was a welcome sight to see all lit up with the gilt and gaudy trappings of the opulently wealthy. And the said opulently wealthy mingling and rubbing elbows with noses held high was even better... although it did make him rather acutely aware of his rather poor and shabby self. Folks like that had so much that they didn't mind gambling some away- so there was bound to be a casino of some sorts nearby. He quickly shook off the urge however, if he ran off to find a parlor now he'd prolly never find his way back- What did they even use for cash here anyways?

As if the thought summoned him from the shadows, a precocious peddler sidled up to him- or rather The Precocious Peddler, because the fellow seemed to embody all the characteristics of those panhandling folks surface wise. From the chummy lack of personal space to the sleazy snake oil salesman charm, there could be no mistaking this man for anything but what he was. It was a little disconcerting, but still the sheer familiarity of such a character put a smile on his face.

"Say mac,"  Miles said upping the ante and throwing his arm over the man's shoulders, "You seem a right sort of fellow. I've heard about this honey of yours, said to be so good if you put a drop or two on your forehead your tongue'll beat your brains out trying to get at it.

"And at such bargain is mighty kind of you, but i'm a bit strapped for Echo's at the moment," He continued with a what-can-you-do grin. When in doubt it's best to assume he's not good for it. It had been so long since he'd had anything of value this reaction was a well ingrained habit by now. "I'm actually on my way to [i]The Singing Mandrake[/i] to see a dame about a thing- if you could point me in the right direction I'd be much obliged, and when I get back in the black i'll definitely look you up about that taste of Honeyed Bliss. What do you say, pal?"