Aslan nodded, closing his eyes in thought as he tried to recall just when Crane was about last. Did he know about the petty purse snatchers? Pretty sure he’d told him what he knew about those ones. The usual pickpockets at the market?

“Pretty sure it’s mostly Longbottom kids at the market, but there’s a couple of raggedy men at it. A Maxwell Higgins is there a lot … but I think he’s nonviolent.”

And Aslan himself had only swiped a handful of wallets at night since he beat up that fellow at the Founders’ Ball. Mostly at the outgoing train station.

“If you need someone to talk to the survivors in the daytime, I’m happy to make time to be here.”

Nisa liked white dresses and bright days, after all.

Aslan hovered on his calves, smiling politely before doing as he was told and sitting back down.

“Thank you, Crane.”

Fuck, it was going to be bland. Aslan looked for something to wipe the tea up with while Crane's back was turned.