Bronze was starting to think that he was getting old. Not that he was old, though he probably was a bit on the ancient end of the spectrum as far as new trainers went, but when he caught himself having thoughts like, How do these kids have so much energy? and Why is that music so loud?, he was faced with the disturbing idea that those were the kind of things crotchety old folk thought, not young men. Still, it had been a long day, and he could blame stress and jet lag for his current lack of vigour. Right?

Right. At least he didn’t have to wrangle two eggs and keep an eye on Valia while traversing the endless stream of increasingly lively festival-goers - Where did they find the energy? Honestly. The Wailmer backpack he’d bought earlier in the day, while not exactly in line with his usual aesthetic choices, was admittedly pretty effective at keeping one of the eggs secure and snug. Plus he found the way that you lifted the Wailmer’s mouth to store things in it like you were feeding it to be pretty adorable. Points to the designer for that, at least. The other egg hadn’t been fortunate enough to land the luxury padding of the Wailmer pack, but Bronze had at least managed to rig a rainbow-hued sash into a holster for it, incubator and all resting against his side. He looked ridiculous, yes, but he’d let his pride take a hit if it meant the eggs were even that little bit safer. Plus he could use his hands now, which was something of a relief after a few hours of going without.

He was making ample use of the newfound liberty of his hands, gently prying people from his path while doing his best not to just plow through people - which he probably could, if he wanted to. He was a big guy, but he didn’t want to be that kind of big guy, so he was as mannerly about the process as he could be while still making steady headway through the swell and push of the crowd. He had his eye on a street corner that looked to have a bit more breathing room than most, and a bench that sat innocuously just a little removed from the bustle of the main thoroughfare.

He’d almost made it, taking his Zorua’s curt warning of < Step. > in time to prevent himself from taking a tumble - Only to have the universe decide that no, in fact, he was going to fall, whether he liked it or not, courtesy of some other poor unfortunate who collided with Bronze in the middle of their own stumble. No stranger to falling, the dark haired man went into a relaxed roll, taking the brunt of the force on his shoulder, and rose only a touch unsteadily to his feet.

He responded to the blond man’s use of sign reflexively, extending his hands out level before his chest and moving them down, to the side, and down again, before pointing to himself and setting his right thumb to the center of his chest, fingers splayed outward. ”Calm down, I’m fine.”. He extended his gloved hand out to the other man to help him up, bronze knuckle-studs gleaming dully in the fading light, and nodded to him before tilting his head aside, brow raised, producing the sign for ’Okay’ - You alright?