Tristan just stared at his items, until he heard a woman's voice and saw a man - no a woman - picking up his things. It took a moment before he crouched down and started picking things up as well. His heart was still racing, he was out of breath, and though he was not a terribly emotional man, he was near tears. Was it still worth the time to drop by quickly tomorrow? He had been looking forward so much to spending the night at Tobias' and catching up with his old friend.

It was so upsetting that he hardly heard the woman's question, and didn't pay attention to her thieving. That was unlike Tristan. He passed trough big cities often enough to know what a thieves den stations were. He would not trust anyone here to handle his things. Normally.

"What?" he asked, confused even further by the question. He frowned and looked at the book. "Oh... yeah, I do... It's a detective," he said passively. "Err... I'm sorry." He shook his head trying to come back to his senses. "Thank you, miss." He looked at her. She didn't exactly look like a lady. His eyes flashed back down to the floor and the scattered money and he began to pick it up, counting mentally.