@hiiraethus ( continued from here ! )
There is no argument to be found in that logic, and thus Bartholomew smiles in agreement to her crafty reply. She's right: an unusual restlessness does tend to settle in when the day grows older, with reasons for its existence counting as many as the stars above.
The tinkling laughter and other indistinct noises several paces away are proof, too. Even for a pirate, like himself.
"People to see, hm?" he says, playing into the initial arch tone. "Right. How can a beauty such as yourself not have admirers?"
A chuckle then tumbles from his lips as Bartholomew pushes away from the brick siding of a building, unfolds his arms into an affable pose. His cool gaze slides from the beauty in question and toward the mouth of a darkened alley, where shadowy figures twist with activity.
From the way an occasional face spies in this direction, he wonders if she is aware of these nefarious sort of admirers.
"Heh ... Well, as a gentleman, I can't allow a young lady to travel alone at this hour." Bart extends a gloved hand forward in polite invitation. The gold link of rings around his wrist flare in the lamplight.
"Might I have the honor to escort you to your destination?"
