Durran had his guard up. Time since the meeting with the headmaster and the events at the pool had him often pondering and searching the flames for answers. None yet availed. Only vague snatches of sights in darkened, misty alleys that had no events worthy of noting. They didn’t even have people in them and the most interesting one was the one where the wind blew the mist along, but never away. Still, a vision was a vision, and Durran was never one to not doggedly search for what it contained. Hence, the alleys of the Avenue. These were, however, most often occupied by those who knew how to look. A skill Durran had picked up years ago when seeking the slight differences in trails of prey. He had found these individuals on his first jaunt of the city. They were surprised he’d noticed them and more surprised by his kindness, used to only finding it in soup kitchens and adventurous social workers, not a strange giant wearing furs.
It had taken time, but Durran had worked to build casual friendships through gifts and conversation. Eventually, they had begun to open up to him, but many still remained wary. Sadly, they were also unable to help him at the moment. After all, the alley he saw was empty. Truly barren. Durran had yet to find it or have heard of anyone who could speak of a truly abandoned alley. Of course, the vision may not even pertain to the town and may be somewhere else entirely.
He was about to call it a night when an approximate comet of energy and sound broke across his musings. An instant later and Durran was set with a goodly smile and disposition. “Fi, yes. I know where many houses are, though I doubt ye mean the houses ye’d find down these halls. Many a fellow lives down them though. Come, follow Durran. Nary a friend I know of these goodly halls will think to threaten ye while you stay by my side. Durran will lead you to houses ye know to be proper.” And he began to lead him back towards the city main with a solid pace, yet not to sharp. For Durran could easily see, and smell, the drunkenness of the fellow. A fellow he was, as to be drunk was to unmake a man. As they strolled along, Durran asked, “tell me yer name, as ye already have mine. Tis only good if a goodly gesture is returned."
