Wayne and OPEN
Wayne was visibly anxious as the questioners worked their way through the crowd. Although often pale and fidgety, he was even paler and more fidgety as they approached. "Yeah, I saw him around some earlier, but not since dark," he offered, when pressed for what he knew. "Just around the food stalls and all. No, I don't know where he went."
He didn't add that he didn't know where Orpington went because every time he'd glimpsed him, he'd quickly bolted in the opposite direction. If Orpington had already figured out that Wayne had slipped him false information, he was the last person Wayne wanted to see.
Wayne took a big, shaky breath when the inspectors moved on to question the rest of the assembled crowd, but he still looked pretty shaken up, and he kept spinning his badger hat in his hands-- that stupid, fluffy badger hat someone had stuck on his head earlier in the day, when he was pleasantly buzzed and the sun was out and he'd been thinking that just maybe everything would be OK.
Because now all he could think about was that fake Arithmancy formula he'd given Orpington just days before, and where it might be now, and how soon the inspectors might find it, and whether it would lead them back to him. "Shit," he mumbled out loud, looking down into the beady puppet eyes of the felt badger in his hands. He then snapped his head up, worried someone might have overheard.