Maybe it was kind of weird to feel sympathy for someone you really didn't know, but Vrenille had kind of built his livelihood (such as it was in his younger years) on being able to do just that for people--for men in particular, soldiers in many cases, but really that part didn't matter. Half the time what he offered a guy was simply companionship, and for his companionship he'd get a meal, a warm bed, and someone who would want to come back to him again, someone who'd help him out when he got into a really tight spot.

It sounded horribly mercenary and disingenuous on the surface, but in a way, this was no different. And the truth of the matter was that Vrenille didn't fake the caring. He almost never faked it, and he wasn't doing so now.

He could see how scared and disheartened this young man was--scared in his bones for reasons that Vrenille couldn't fully understand--and the most natural thing in the world for him was to reach out to someone like that.

"Look, it's ok. Whatever could have happened, it didn't, yeah? Come on, tell me your name and let's get-- I dunno, inside somewhere? Someplace warm maybe? Is there anywhere to get inside around here?"