Kit watches him go at first. There was no explicit invitation to follow offered, exactly; but with the Medicine Seller, social niceties seem to fall by the wayside like bits of unwanted clutter.

It's clear enough where the batty-looking elf is going. Exhaling, Kit takes a final pull from his cigarette, then puts it out underfoot and jogs after him. "You want some back-up?" he offers. If his memory serves him well enough, the Medicine Seller can hold his own in a fight, but a little extra muscle couldn't go amiss in a place like Darktown.