A simple boy had surmised he was from the Lower Plate? How was that possible? Lyon was dressed strangely, but it was dark out. Who would pay so much attention to detail at night?
Lyon's look of disinterest quickly fashioned into a glare. There was something off about this boy... the look of concern was one he'd seen far too often. It just felt... fake.
"...I'm visiting a friend. What concern is it of yours what I'm doing up here? Shouldn't you be in bed? It's a school night, you know. Why don't you run home, like a good boy?" Lyon retorted, trying to hide the increasing malice he was feeling towards the boy.