"Mm?" Halloran muttered, not much giving a damn about any kind of verbal exchange since his light had suddenly been given back to him. He'd plopped back down onto the wall fairly gracelessly as soon as the precious sun had been restored. And then the actual words filtered into his brain and he blinked, folding his papers and tucking them into his coat. The boy - perhaps that was unkind, but he was younger than Halloran, that was visibly evident - looked a bit concerned about the whole mess.
"It's fine, it's fine," he hurried to say, eager to avoid any fuss. "Vine," he offered, in lieu of 'sir,' which made him feel strange on land. He offered his hand in some attempt at repair and tried to parse together what sort of young man took so much care in the selection of his coat but still had the common sense to call someone 'sir'. He was either a dandy or newly married, but Halloran wasn't willing to put money on either just yet. "What brings you to this side of the market wall, then?"