They are, huh? But don't worry about gettin' lost; I've lived here my whole life.

[Firo follows Ivan, making sure to keep close to his side just in case of another fight, or in case Ivan needs directions. Even if Firo doesn't know exactly where they're going, he's familiar enough with the layout of the city's immigrant slums to guess a general area if need be. It turns out that his directional skills aren't needed (probably a good thing; just because Firo knows the city doesn't mean he won't get sidetracked), so Firo just sticks close. He watches Ivan's exchange with the woman and looks up at his companion as they approach their destination.]

You got a lotta friends here?

[Nobody'd ever waved to his mother like that back when Firo was a child clinging to her side.]