"Senior citizen gangs...? Well, I'm glad I'm asleep when those dangerous old people prowl the streets, hunting, and I suppose what they say is true: things are done differently in Amsterdam. I can't wait to hit that age to be honest." A quiet laugh escaped Marcus, leaving a smile behind which was merely a shadow of the one Juniper wore but it was more than most people got out of him. His language skills were expanding, slowly but surely - being exposed to it on a daily basis definitely helped; what didn't help so much was the fact that it was easy to get by with English in a city like this one when Dutch failed him. Oh well, he'd get there eventually.
"I'm fine. No regrets - no lasting ones. No more nasty encounters with old ladies. In fact, the most recent ones have been rather pleasant, involving offerings of food. It must be the stray, homeless, starving dog I'm projecting." It was funny how welcoming the neighbours had been. The Englishman would have thought that Amsterdam would be more wary and more suspicious of strangers, considering its population. But perhaps being able to walk around by day gave off the impression that he was 'just like them'. And he was - on most days. Knew the right kind of smiles and words to put minds at ease, didn't cause trouble, didn't have strange friends, didn't keep strange company. What minor illegal dealings he had he kept away from his home, adhering to the old 'don't shit where you eat' rule.
"How about you? You seem different." It was nothing he could put his finger on, but the Juniper sitting across the table didn't quite fit the Juniper Marcus had stored away in his head.