He was just walking along as she considered the topic, making sure to keep his strides short and slow so he didn't outpace her or make her uncomfortable. When she pointed, he nodded and decided to follow; if he brings her back to her own home and she's tired or wants to stay inside, he can just head out again on his own. He'd like to know she's all right, and a little less cold, after all. But to the question, he blinks, staring down at his gloved hands as if they could tell him, as if they had rings like a tree.

"I don't really know. But I don't think I'm a student." He could read all the signs and the paperwork he'd been asked to put his name to, could write his name back, but it wasn't something comfortable and easy.

"I think..." and his eyes flicker to the patch on one arm, to the lantern at his hip. "I think I'm a soldier. Or I was, anyway."

This place didn't look like it'd even seen war, let alone been a part of it.