[Cassandra returns to picking at her cake, in order to avoid meeting his eyes. It's - kind, she supposes, of this man to stop what he's doing and inquire after her, but it's also a bit suspicious. The world's a dangerous place.

And Sayyid is out in it, all alone. She's afraid.

For the world.]

Far be it from me to critique authority.

The boy in question is a few years younger than I. A - relative. His hair is blond.