The feeling of being watched was unmistakable, but that was to be expected in a room full of people on edge with hair-trigger tempers. It reminded him of his first few weeks at Ptolemy House, Library hopefuls sizing each other up the minute they entered the common room like sharks shoved into a too-small goldfish bowl. The question then had been who could they devour first, and he wasn't so much of an optimist to think that sentiment was overly different here.

Jess' attention stayed on the fair-haired man.

Thorfinn was one of only many hard-looking individuals coming and going, but he was also in grey... Jess wondered if that meant something. The uniforms were deliberate--it stood to reason the color coding was, too. "Hello," he repeated in his own native Londoner lilt. That sure was a heavy accent, and Jess realized English might not be the other's first language. He wasn't positive what kind of accent it was without hearing more. "New? Yes. I'm new."

To tell the truth, he already hated the label, but if it was easier for the others to understand, then he'd settle for it.

Working off his hunch, he gestured back at the man. "English?"