Tristan spared a second to glare at her, more than a little affronted. Of course he'd meant to ask. "Really?" he muttered, starting down the hallway more quickly than he wanted to. "Thanks." She probably didn't really mean to be so unhelpful, he supposed. There was a little boy on the loose. The situation called for some tension. "Francis!"
He darted forward to an office door after what he thought had been a flash of ginger hair, but it had gone. He was starting to panic a little now, more than was warranted, probably. "There's nothing that'll - you know - eat him, is there?"