Nobody warned Theo about the monsoons before he moved to Torchline.
Not that it would have made much difference, honestly. He didn't have a whole lot of choice, given the number of enemies he'd made in Halo, and the fact that he was starting to overstay his welcome at the Hollowed Grounds, too. Where else was he going to go? The Greatwood? Somehow he doubted the Fae, with their strict honesty, would appreciate his whole shtick. Though maybe they'd be easier to fool, if they'd grown up expecting everyone around them to tell the truth ...
Well, that was a concern for the future. Today, Theo was more worried about saving his own skin. The storm had caught him at a low point -- he hadn't managed to steal or scam his way into a safe place to stay. He should have taken up Oliver's offer of shelter in the Hollowed Grounds, or thrown himself on the charity of strangers, but by the time he'd realized just how bad the storm was going to get, it was too late -- despite all the Torchers' warnings and preparations. What could he say? Theo was an optimist. Now this store was his refuge ... at least, until it closed and the owner kicked him out.
Theo couldn't help casting a glance at the store's other patron, wondering if he too was homeless. Why else would he be out in this? Maybe striking up conversation would get Theo somewhere. "Quite a storm, isn't it? Can't say I've ever seen its like before."
can't say good morning without lying twice
