"Now why would I be referring to you and Drust?" Ghent's smirk faded once Hatter was mentioned again. Elayra appeared reluctant to voice what she was going to say, which only made Ghent wonder if she had bad news to deliver. "He...what?" 
	Elayra's grip on her bow was enough for him to forget the topic of Hatter, at least for now. "Hold on! You can't go around shooting people!" Hastily, Ghent moved to lower the weapon before Miles could see what was happening. Thankfully, his interference was not required. She'd lowered the weapon on her own.
	[b] “But don’t ever call me that, especially where enemy ears might hear!”[/b]
	Ghent's hands went up to the straps of his backpack as the drunkard approached, an attempt to look casual. "Too risky, huh? What am I supposed to call you, then? Do we have to go back to Blondie?"
	Miles was a mystery. Some days Ghent guessed him to be in his forties, other days he wondered if he was pushing sixty. No matter what day, he always resembled an old, disheveled miner, minus the pickax.
	The man eyeballed the teenagers with an air of suspicion, hands shoved deep into the pockets that was made from who-knew what kind of animal. "What're you doin out so late?"
	[i]Whoa.[/i] Miles really [b]was[/b] in another world. Rather than point out the fact that it was early morning, Ghent shrugged, his backpack lifting slightly with the movement. "Just getting some fresh air."
	"Hmph." Miles cupped his hand over a cigarette in order to light it. [i]So much for fresh air.[/i] "Who's that?"
	Ghent made it a point to keep an eye on Elayra. Hopefully Miles wouldn't say something to trigger a hostile reaction. "A girl from acting class." He'd planned his response; Elayra's attire along with her weaponry wasn't exactly normal for the city. "We're on our way to rehearsal. I'm the hero, and she's gonna be the damsel in distress." At that, Ghent smirked towards Elayra and winked just to be extra annoying. "Isn't that right, m'lady?" 
	Miles wasn't impressed. He eyed the weapons and drew up the collar of his moth eaten coat. "Better not let them see you totin those knives around."
	Ghent raised an eyebrow. "Them?" 
	Miles exhaled smoke. "Cops were sniffin around earlier. Couple punks broke into the Book Barn." He looked behind his shoulder, visibly nervous. "Ain't that where you work?"
	Acting wasn't necessary. Ghent was genuinely shocked. Frank was incredibly passive; he wouldn't have called the police unless he absolutely had to. Drust and the Shadowmire must have left the place in shambles. "Uh...yeah...well, I used to."
	Miles appeared suspicious again, but the sounds of oncoming traffic encouraged him to get moving. "If I were you, I'd take off before they start pointin fingers."
	With the smoke violating his lungs, Ghent cleared his throat, thankful that Miles was headed in the opposite direction. "Er...right, I'll do that. See you around, Miles."
	This complicated things. Ghent didn't want to risk running into anyone else -- [i]especially[/i] the police.  
	"Sorry about that." Miles was hardly his responsibility, but Ghent felt the need to apologize for the man. "Don't suppose that portal of yours can meet us halfway, can it?"