Despite having been active and quite limber all his life, Regulus was having troubles keeping up with the other. He hadn't a clue where he was going, who he was following or why. But his stomach tugged him along, pulling him this way and that way --there was a chance for food and he wasn't going to miss it.
Finally they had stopped, after a rather abrupt turn that he had nearly missed, and Regulus was standing face-to-face with the stranger.
When the packet had been thrown his way, he initially looked overjoyed and then, suddenly, Regulus faltered; he didn't like admitting it, but the truth was he was starved. Trying not to appear as desperate as he truly was, he pried open the bag and stuck his fingers inside, grabbing what he could and bringing it to his lips. Another pause. This was also going to be hard. Once that first crisp hit his taste-buds he couldn't promise that he would be able to control himself and if he couldn't do that then he knew he'd only make himself sick. Taking a deep breath, he furrowed his brows and carefully nibbled at the first crisp.
"Ah." He frowned for a moment, swallowing and brushing crumbs form his face with the back of his hand. "I've never had one." He remarked, angry with himself for not acting like a muggle should. But it was hard to constantly remember who was living as now. Regulus looked up at his companion to see if he had accepted the lie told him; probably not, he could see the wheels turning behind those eyes, but Regulus hadn't expected any less. He couldn't say he was the best of liars.
Their conversation remained light, vague and incredibly boring. Neither of them want to share more than the bare minimum and neither seemed particularly comfortable with the situation they had placed themselves in. During the entirety of their talk, however, Regulus continued to eat, nibbling here and there between thoughts and words. When he had finished it off, he pocketed the bag (being homeless had taught him that seemingly useless things provided more uses than expected) and licked his fingers clean. A heavy silence fell over them and he shifted uncomfortably under the weight of it. Nothing more could be said, he had finished eating and he wasn't about to asking for something else. Scratching the back of his neck, running dirty fingers through dirty hair, Reg glanced down at his shoes and heaved a low sigh.
"I should get going."
That was probably for the best; though he didn't have any plans for himself, Reg rather wanted to go, himself. Wandering around aimlessly was far better than staying part of a dead conversation with no hope of reviving; that was just awkward and uncomfortable.
Quietly thanking the man for the crisps, he shoveled his hands into his pockets and turned to go. He stopped, momentarily considering asking for information on where to get a wand, but, then, decided that it was probably best if he didn't. He was trying to maintain that he was not a wizard, even if his lies were atrocious. One last look at the other and he stepped out of the alley and searched for the way back out onto the street, leaving the Stephen to Disapparate in peace.