Considering that this was where Weiler had come from, Weiler himself spent a fair amount of time just looking around also. It was understandable, considering the expanse of time that had passed since he had last seen it, but for all appearances, he looked even less familiar with the surroundings that Locke, who, at the very least, retained some semblance of subtlety to his reactions.

Because it was Christmas day and no one was out and about in this area of town, Weiler reached out and clung to Locke's sleeve, just so that they weren't two lonely islands in cold, barren neighborhood.

"It's a bit of a walk," Weiler said, one eye narrowing in unsaid apology. It was frosty outside, as they had both quickly discovered upon leaving their building. The air was dry and cold enough that their breaths barely condensed before dissipating into nothing, and prolonged exposure bit at the tips of their noses, the edges of their cheekbones and the slope of their foreheads. Weiler was infinitely grateful for his gray scarf.

He led them away from a residential street and around what looked like the edge of the affluent borough. "This way."