[She might tap the shoulder of a quite tall human-looking male clad in black. He turns to look over his shoulder at her, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, a small, amused smirk playing over his handsome features, which manage to look chiseled and finely carved at the same time.]

I might be, though in this place, no Sleeper is truly alone. [The brown and white head of a weasel peeps from inside the collar of the gent's leather duster, looks at their human and peers at Blair, whiskers wiggling.] I take it you've newly arrived from the Sea?