He took the 'card' and studied it intently for a moment. He couldn't make heads nor tails of it, so he placed it into his other pocket. [color=gray]'Tau'[/color].

He looked up as she called back to him, and grunted an affirmation, running a few steps to catch up with her. He mentally took stock as he did. He did genuinely want to help her, that much was true. She clearly had either some form of medical issue or just a more general drug problem. He was leaning towards the latter. This whole city (if you could even call it a city) seemed to be infested with drug-based crime.

He looked at his reflection in a mirrored window as they passed it. His left eye was starting to go bloodshot. He closed it to allow it to re-moisturize, but didn't slow his pace.

He hadn't been lying. He wasn't a cop. It certainly wouldn't be prudent to attempt to change singlehandedly what was arguably the cultural cornerstone of this entire area. So the question was, why did he care if this random person had a drug problem?

He watched her back as she walked confidently in front of him, and he thought. [i][color=007236]She reminds me of Thrush a bit. Maybe that's what it is.[/color][/i] And who knows? Maybe she'd know something about his brother. Unlikely, all things considered, but you never-

He nearly crashed into her before he realized she'd stopped.