At least they are obedient, if nothing else. A monster would never follow him around like this. The tribesmen from the world above know some small scraps of magic, and he knows that strange things sometimes fester out in the wastes where no one goes--but even those kinds of people would never walk up to him and willingly take his hand.

The bedroom is cleaner than the front room, but only because the bed takes up any space Vincent could have otherwise set things down in. There are some drawers with a mess of clothes in them, a closet with a broken door, and that's about all there is to see.

But Robin seems to like it in this room. The air feels kind of like him, or maybe he smells like this room smells, or maybe it's something else... But being here seems to calm him down in ways he may not even notice.

He sits down on the edge of the bed. The mattress springs sound pretty old.

"Do you have a name?"