Re: [Arborlon: Misha/Newt]
Newt took the notebook with the small, freckled curve of a smile. He set it aside with the absentmindedness that made it difficult to find earlier, but, well, he wasn't thinking about any of that. He looked up at the sloped walls of the room, at their glistening white. "Nuclear war, I think." He was fairly certain. And he smiled again, as the boy before him told him once more they were rather far in the 'future,' which, of course, was the present. At present, anyway. "Can you feel it?" He asked, unable to help himself. It might've been rude, but Newt was rather unaware. He meant, could Misha feel time as something tangible, as more than the placement of the sun in the sky and any aches in the body.
But, yes, right, Adrian. Newt noted the somewhat helpless shrug of shoulders out of the corner of his eye. He didn't offer any answer immediately, as to whether or not he was visiting. Instead, he let Misha talk. Gold eyes narrowed as the shake of fairhaired head, before Newt turned his gaze to the case, still open. He ought change, really. He glanced back to Misha, or near enough. He'd no idea how inclined Adrian was to 'fixing himself'—rather not, would be his guess. "Patrick won't be pleased with me," Newt said as he closed the case and took it in hand. "But, yes, I do think I'll visit." He wandered toward a table to fetch up a quill. With the case placed between his feet, he penned a short note. "I do hope you're not feeling responsible." Newt looked up, over. "You're not. This is what he does, I'm afraid."