[ gray leans forward in the way he always does, and tris doesn't bat an eyelash. instead he basks in relief that burrows its way down into the pit of his stomach, relief because there's someone else here that he knows, someone else who understands. not to mention someone who he might be in dire need of because while he doesn't appreciate the call out... ]

Just because it's true doesn't mean you should say it.

[ snippily of course, that's how he always is when he's being scolded in a way that gray only knows how to manage - like he's a child coming in from the rain, mud on his shoes, on his hands, grass stains all over. the sensation he gives off is far lesser than back home - not as much taint to his magic. it's more of a subtle wear and tear, like something's sifted through it, blocked something critical he utilizes on the job. he doesn't hear spirits like he used to, and maybe for gray, that's a good thing.

there's less to go sweeping up after. ]

This place sucks but... it's good to see you anyways. Maybe? [ he squints forward a little before his eyes brighten and he leans back in the seat, hands poised on the topmost rung. ] Oh wow, talk about tall straws... you're in the Up. Lucky punk. Can you help me get a new pair of pants? I've been wearing the same ones since like... I got here.

[ a beat ] I wash them though.