There are probably a lot of people who would just go away--either they'd take offense or they'd simply be freaked out enough to want to put distance between themselves and the apparent nutjob on the street before anything worse could happen.

But Vrenille does not go away. When Ed's hands snap down, he'll find him looking at him, his eyes slightly unsure but not impatient. And it's the apology that really wins him, the quick shift like a jump-start between one gear and another.

As a rule, Vrenille tries not to pity people. It's insulting and condescending, and he'd never want it from anyone himself, so why would he do it to someone else? So it's not precisely a matter of feeling sorry for Ed. But he does feel sympathy, especially with that explanation that fails so spectacularly, not for being false, but for being, he thinks, a little too true.

"Yeah, that voice." Well, everyone has some version of that voice--self doubt, second guessing--at least sometimes, even if he thinks it might be...different for Ed, given what he's seen so far.

He lets the quiet stretch for a moment. Then, "Walk with me?"