"Well then, Mister Wanderer, I don't suppose on top o' pointing me in the direction of the Police Station, you and your err- friend 'ere might join me for a bit to eat? I sure could use a bowl of chili, but I doubt I'll have luck finding a bowl on my own. Whadda' ya' say? If we can't find chili, hopefully we can sink our teeth into something both we make like moths and start eating our clothes."

He laughs for a moment, waving a hand through the air to dismiss the puff of dust which rises off of the worn, experienced coat he wears.

"Excuse the dirt, I'm sorry, Sir. This coat has seen a lot more than rainy days and late nights, I'm afraid. But.. Well, you know how it is, I imagine."