Newt keeps well away from the little town. Well, as far as the limits of this place currently allow. He prefers it that way normally, and finding himself thrust into a new and wholly unappealing situation without use of his wand, limited ability, and no case---. Well, it hasn't endeared the place to him, even if they are all in this together. He works with others when he must, mostly only in sharing what he fishes for and forages for from local plants.

He at least doesn't mind the color of his scrubs, only if it does still indicate that which he wishes, if people are paying attention at all.

He pays enough attention out here, to be aware of what animals are treading through, and to keep his own imprint on the area to a minimum. His bag stays with him at all times, and he has his peacoat wrapped around him, hands shoved into his pockets as he moves along.

Newt stops, however, when he hears another person almost trampling through the underbrush, curious as he moves closer to investigate, and then hears her voice.

"Tina?" Newt calls it out, voice still oddly quiet though it is raised to be heard.