Out here, Phalanx is a lot like how Robin had first found them--drifting along like they don't quite realize that they are fully a part of this plane, dragging a cloud of energy with them that shivers and reverberates somewhere underneath the air. Except, with how asleep and empty the avenue is at this hour, it has room to spread out. With all this stillness, their aura almost chatters amongst itself.

The question manages to still and focus them a little bit, but the rest is still wandering.

"--Think of Vincent. Of Vincent... we think of Vincent."

Being out and about in just a dress-sized shirt and tangled blanket is much less than Phalanx is used to, so they absently start straightening the blanket into more of a true shawl-shape. Fashioning a hood out of the tangled mass is the hardest part, but they're working on it.

"...Big, and he's a tree. A big one."