Peter has always enjoyed the evenings, especially the time when everyone begins to go back into their warm homes so that he can wander the streets and feel like the only person in the world.

Even years and years later he can't help the simple pleasure of that solitude.

Though, mostly, he doesn't throw others walking the streets into the Lonely like that first time. Lucky for Timothy. Peter has a moment of recognition, a vague memory of a picture in the Institute's monthly newsletter. Interesting.

Peter inclined his head. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"