From the inside of the hovel comes a slurred groan of, "wh'time izzit?"
"Yeah," Kit tells Vandelin, offering him a sheepish grin over his shoulder, but he's already bending to the task of helping a bearded, blear-eyed fellow up to his feet, dusting him off in a kindly fashion. "C'mon, Chuck, you need a hand getting home?"
There's a bit of grouchy banter--at least on the vagrant's end--but Kit, endlessly patient and good-natured, responds to the drunkard's grumpy barbs with good humour. Once they're both outside the hovel, he claps the guy gently on the shoulder and points down the lane. "That one's yours--remember?" He probably won't, and they'll definitely do this again tomorrow night, but, well. He did kind of sign up for this.
He walks the older guy most of the way back to his pad, makes sure he gets in all right. When he comes back to Vandelin, he looks sheepish, apologetic. "Um," he says, shifting, and thumbs back at his front door. "I'd say I need to get the locks changed, except I'm not rightly sure I've even got locks yet."
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"Yeah," Kit tells Vandelin, offering him a sheepish grin over his shoulder, but he's already bending to the task of helping a bearded, blear-eyed fellow up to his feet, dusting him off in a kindly fashion. "C'mon, Chuck, you need a hand getting home?"
There's a bit of grouchy banter--at least on the vagrant's end--but Kit, endlessly patient and good-natured, responds to the drunkard's grumpy barbs with good humour. Once they're both outside the hovel, he claps the guy gently on the shoulder and points down the lane. "That one's yours--remember?" He probably won't, and they'll definitely do this again tomorrow night, but, well. He did kind of sign up for this.
He walks the older guy most of the way back to his pad, makes sure he gets in all right. When he comes back to Vandelin, he looks sheepish, apologetic. "Um," he says, shifting, and thumbs back at his front door. "I'd say I need to get the locks changed, except I'm not rightly sure I've even got locks yet."