Re: [Arborlon: Misha/Newt]
Newt had several more questions to ask, but, ah, perhaps it could wait then. His gaze lingered on the younger man, curious and not at all finished with his questioning, but he put it aside for the moment. He supposed they ought get on with it. If Adrian had this boy out looking for Patrick, it was sure to be bad news and, well, Newt'd face it for Patrick's sake. He sent the man a flurry of positive, warm thoughts, though that he'd no ability or magic that'd see them to him—but, he would miss him, and he did regret having to do this. But, that was the way of it. Especially with Adrian.
So, Newt took a breath. He held out his other hand, so his case might come to him, which it did. He'd his wand. His case. Clothing. He was forgetting his notebook, but, ah well. He glanced sideways at Misha, who was... ah, agreeing?—that things could get worse, in the sense that no one was dead. "A good rule of thumb, I agree," he teased lightly, dryly, his own smile a flicker of warmth in response to the apology open on the young face before him. He shook his head, took the young man's hand in his own, and nodded. "Thank you." It was the last he managed before he was whisked off in an envelope of what could only be described as light, though it had its own sort of texture, and then there he was. Alone with Adrian. Or was it Sue?