The women he had brought here were strange. He'd yet to meet any of the men that had been brought here, and Thomas wondered if he wanted to. There were a few he did his best to avoid, for they were more than likely to cause him trouble. Not that the women hadn't. There was one in particular he hoped he never saw again.
The clothes he wore were new. He'd stolen them; he'd seen it done by the flying manboy and a few others. The shirt was too big. The pants too tight. The shoes felt strange, but they were serviceable enough. Now if he could just make it through another day without a confrontational encounter. He knew the crone's magic couldn't possibly work forever; nothing in the City was forever. Thomas knew very well, that nothing lasted forever.