"I'm a stranger?" Tristian put his hand to his chest; if he looked affronted, that's because he was. "I approached you out of the goodness of my dark little heart. Do you have any idea how many bigger, badder monsters than us walk these streets at night, waiting to gobble up a clumsy little thing like you?" He brushed a few strands of pale hair out of his eyes and looked down his nose before continuing. "As it happens I work at The Blue Velvet. I can make sure none of the bar staff will ever serve you there."
Technically that wasn't true, but how likely was Rhys to know that? The little mouse couldn't navigate the Upper east Side without help, it was doubtful he'd ever get past the heavies on the door. "And I know because you told me," which honestly wasn't the most helpful answer for a non-Malkavian, but that was less of a Tristian problem and more of a Rhys problem, really. However, the number of references filling his head was starting to get a little too much as they linked themselves together in patterns he knew would sound far too much like gibberish were they to start falling out of his mouth. Best to quit the whilst he was ahead. He could always have another little pry later. Maybe. Possibly.
"Come along then, Potter." An arm linked through Rhys' and began tugging him in the right direction. "Let's get you to Platform 9 and a half before you get kicked out of Hogwarts. You know, I never did get the appeal of those movies. Why would anyone want to learn magic when they could live forever? Kine have such a strange take on the world."