Edric certainly hoped there wouldn't be much for him to do—law enforcement wise, at least—in the wake of the fog, though there was still a feeling of impending doom that loomed in the air. He didn't want to believe that it was an intentional act against the magical community, but these sort of things always came with their own share of drama.

An attempt to take a drink of the coffee she'd brought left his swaying where he sat, so much so that his shoulder bumped into hers for a moment. He straightened himself up and blinked his eyes, trying to clear his senses. He wasn't that tired, was he? He'd spent entire nights in high-stake situations before, and never had he felt this tired.

"I worry about everything, Miss Lynch; anyone who knows me well could tell you that." And she'd probably learned that by now, too, but he wasn't sure she knew the extent of which his worry went sometimes. He turned to face her, brushing his hair out of his face once more. "Don't you go punching me again," he started, but couldn't prevent a chuckled from escaping his lips, "but I need you to stay alert—especially if it reaching Bartonburg." He reached over and touched her arm, a sincere (albeit perhaps a bit improper, but this whole situation had already left the realm of propriety) display of concern.

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