Erskine's been back in Keeliai for a month now, and while he's still not entirely comfortable with traipsing around the city on his own--he strongly suspects he never will be--sometimes it's a necessity. He can't hide in the Hotel anymore, the way he used to when Anton was there. There's no one left to put up with him being the wallflower he'd so desperately like to be again.

He no longer feels the need to wear the hooded jacket he used to use as a shield out in public, however. If the kedan or the Foreigners remember the fire incident, no one seems eager to dredge up those memories. No one seems to feel the need to point fingers anymore. So Erskine's walking through the city in his suit--the one borrowed from Skulduggery so long ago--with his hands in his pockets and his head down, trying to make it back to the shelter before the sun goes down properly.

Which is when he spots the stranger. Erskine can't claim to know all of the Foreigners in the city, if he ever did, but he remembers the way Foreigners look when they're new to Keeliai. They stick out like sore thumbs, mostly. He hasn't heard any of the exchange, he just knows the newcomer looks a bit lost.

"New the city?" he asks, once he's close enough that he doesn't have to raise his voice much to be heard over the crowd.