Pretty soon after your forced entry into Taxon, the first thing you check on anyone new is their wrist. More specifically their right one, because you never know when the aliens decide to upgrade their robots again.

Not that Wyatt ever really had anything much against the robots - where he comes from they're just another section of society, leading lives of their own. Or they used to be, at any rate. In any case, there's no ill will on Cain's end, especially now it's fairly apparent he didn't just get targeted by a gentleman pickpocket.

...not an Extra gentleman pickpocket, at least.

He crouches down, a touch stiffly, reaching for the assortment of stuff: some bags of spices there, a pair of earrings here, fruit bread and a bottle of spiced wine that he plans on using in some kind of dish that he hasn't really thought through yet.

"Shit happens," he says, eying the New Guy. Been a while since they had so many new faces (and as much of a horrible thing to think it may be, this one looks like a real one. No poster boy features there. A nice, real, proper face).

"You okay?" A beat, as it once again strikes him how stupid a question that really is. "...all things considered?"