"They drink too much..." Noah admitted uncomfortably. He hated his parents. And his parents probably hated him. At least he wasn't a top priority. But when others were involved he still felt rather protective of his family. "I try to find work. I help out at the harbour sometimes, unloadin' and all." Except he didn't really dare to go close to the fishermen anymore. "And I try to do deliveries and other small jobs. They won't hire me at a shop or so. I ain't got a school leavin' certificate." Which was kind of his own fault for playing truant more than being in school. But how could he have known school was important?

"Hrmm, and if you could find yourself full-time employment, what would you do next?" Quentin inquires of the lad as he explains his woes to the older man. The big man was giving very little away of what he thought of Noah's answers. His expression a small thoughtful smile that looked quite natural on his features. Not surprising considering he was the type to almost always smile.

"Not go hungry anymore?" he said, a little confused. "And make sure me siblings don't go hungry..." There was another vague plan in his mind, but it was more comfortable as a vague daydream than as a concrete plan. He wasn't as brave as he liked to think he was.

"Is that it?" Quentin asks. "I would imagine that would prove a challenge. I'd think you'd want to get away from your parents as I must imagine they do their best to drink whatever meagre scraps of money you can bring in." Quentin points out to the boy.

"Yeah well... If I'd have a job, I couldn't move, could I? Or I'd have to give up the job. They'd find me anyway." They still contacted Ruth, even though she had flung herself at the first man from another town who paid attention to her. "I'm not gonna leave my youngest brother here. He's only nine, and he can't fend for himself yet... They're not drunk all the time."

"Then it would seem that you would benefit most from learning a skilled trade. Carpenter, mason, smith. Something which would provide you with both funds and a skill that allows you to move wherever you wish. Which would, in turn, let you escape your parents. However, it does rather raise the question of how you would protect your brother during your apprenticeship. It is quite the conundrum you are facing young man." Quentin says as he considers the issues.

"Aye, and I wouldn't be able to pay t' fee, and they probably wouldn't take me on me without the certificate.... So that's why I take on small jobs like this, ser." He looked up at Quentin. "I can do deliveries for ye, whenever ye need, ser. And I'm good at fixing things, if ye need owt like that. Me dad has a repair shop, so I learned from early on." Except his dad got worse and worse at fixing things. His older brother, Claude, seemed to be getting worse too. He kept having to go back to that rich bloke Mr. Meijer's house. It was really weird.

"Repairing things you say?" Quentin says that was quite an interesting skill for a boy his age to have. "What sort of things?" Quentin inquires something like an idea forming in his mind. The lad, thus far, had shown some moral fibre. Desperation had driven Noah to attempt something untoward but the boy had proven not to have the stomach for it. Given enough time and hardship that might change but the lad's loyalty to his brother and clear desire to work to improve his circumstances despite everything working against him showed some promise.

The boy shrugged. "All sorts... furniture.... carts... used to help out fixing nets and caulking boats." There was a line of work he had lost. Merely going near the fishermen nearly made him wet his pants in fear. They arrived at a fancy establishment. "Here's a restaurant, ser."

"Perfect, come along lad let's get something to eat while I decide what to do with you," Quentin says as he hands Noah a shilling before heading inside. Clearly expecting the teen to follow him into the resteraunt.