Locks used to be completely useless to Eugenides although he liked to think that they still are, relatively.
And that has got to be the most complicated definition of home that he'd ever heard of.
He did search through his pockets for anything that resembled a key but all he had was money, a wrapping of sorts, and dirt. He flicked them out of his nails when they dug in and frowned a little at the lack of the magical key he sought for. His god probably deemed it too...unnecessary for him.
"Well, I have none," Eugenides admitted bluntly. "Perhaps, I shall look for one, though." And with that, he stood up with the purpose of a determined man and swept out of the table. "Thank you. I'll keep your words in mind."