But there's always a price.

Tic bit his lip tenderly, staring up past the man's tall form and sleek hair for a few moments, to something distant and invisible beyond. Strong fingers were coiled around a frail arm, keeping him still. His eyelids quivered slightly, discomforted by the ominous tone in Larkin's last few words. He was unsure of how to respond; he was in quite a threatening position, and anything wrong he might say or do could result with unpleasant effects, even if Larkin had assured him they might not.

Knowing this, he calmed his breath, and loosened his shoulders slightly. He moved his eyes carefully over Larkin's face, avoiding the orange gaze, but still enough to catch its look. It was expectant, waiting; urging him on with a soft push. His violet eyes shifted downwards, uncertainty piling upon him. He shook his head softly, feeling tenser by the moment.

"I... I don't," he uttered softly as his head turned. "I don't know..."

He couldn't get himself to continue for a moment, suddenly fearing Larkin may not believe it. He might think Tic was pretending to be unimportant to The Sink, so that the attention so well-paid to him would fade. But deep down, he really didn't want to be anything special to the man. The attention made him uneasy, in fact, and he willed it away. His breathing stuttered as he continued, voice strained with as much truth as he could muster.

"I don't know who he is ... or where he came from," he paused, voice raising slightly, but still gentle, "but I didn't tell him.. anything!"