Until just that moment, Ren's footsteps were the only ones to be heard in the dark alley, and he found himself pressing a hand to his forehead, reaching out with senses he rarely used outside the Metaverse. They told him two things: one, that there was no cat, Morgana or otherwise, in the alley, and two, that there was someone else, a stranger, nearby. He kept his breathing even, and by all appearances the 16 year old was used to pretty intense situations where caution was necessary to survive.

But he also knew he was supposed to be a normal 16 year old with normal curiosities, not a thief who'd garnered international infamy as a 'stealer of hearts'. He adjusted his glasses, using a finger to push them up the bridge of his nose, a once foreign but now familiar gesture with the non-prescription specs, a purchase he'd made what seemed a lifetime ago to seem less imposing (it had worked for the most part), and stepped closer to the newcomer, into the light from a nearby streetlamp, looking uncertain.

He'd learned people were willing to believe you were harmless if you acted the part. He kept his hands visible and his stance cautious, though there was a smoothness to his gait and the movement of his arms that could suggest to a trained eye that the by all appearances gangly if physically fit young man was capable of holding his own.

"Oh, uh, good evening. You...didn't see a black cat with white boots come this way, did you?" He noted the sword hilt visible over Angeal's shoulder and felt the emptiness left by his own dagger. He really ought to look into replacing that.