"At least they'll have William if they're still on the ship," he mutters, sitting down and rubbing his cold feet through the footies on his pajamas. "Unless you've seen a sort of robot squid wandering about -- but I assume there'd be more screaming if he'd shown up here."

He touches his tongue to the roof of his open mouth, his expression thoughtful. If the dogs aren't here with him, he just has to hope they really are back on the ship -- or with James, wherever he is. Finding James has to be his first order of business -- and he's just going to assume James is here somewhere, because the alternative is too terrible. "Been a while since I've been to New York," he comments. "This New York, anyway. What is this, 2000? 2010-ish? And how is it I've met a talking crow, anyway, what's up with that? D'you have a name?"