Trinan's eyes narrowed as she watched the robed man. He hadn't answered her question, everything about him was a certain kind of shifty. The silence that fell between them dragged on and on, and she found herself growing more and more nervous as it continued past even her threshold of withholding speech. It gave her time to wonder about just who exactly she was talking to. Had he simply guessed that things weren't going pleasantly from her appearance? Anyone would make that observation but his wording continued to bother her for reasons that were unknowable to her. That was intuition speaking, and time told her that it was usually right. Finally, he spoke. It seemed to her that he was offering help, but as impolite as it would be to decline him she was still too bitter to think nothing of a stranger offering aid in the middle of the night. "So do I..." she said, glancing around for someone accompanying the robed man. It took her a moment to think his offer offer, all the while she interrogated him with her eyes, searching for some sign of a weapon or [i]something[/i] that put context to the situation. Her night until then had been an unending cavalcade of gang violence and knight shenanigans and at this point the scout's had no idea who to expect. "Except alcohol. Got any?"