It was strange yet familiar to stalk the streets at night again. Any lantern giving a small pop of color amidst the otherwise gray shades of his darkvision. He didn't linger on those thoughts though- the fact that he'd never again see the city in color with his own eyes. The fact that he missed it already.

Getting used to the darkness again was something he was still working on.

He glanced at Thrawn on occasion as they walked, though his gaze never lingered. Instead looking at the people still out- mostly guards and drunkards and harlots at this hour, people who were already ready to forget all the chaos- and the damage left behind. Some of it was already being repaired, but Astarion could still smell death in the air. Bodies still crushed beneath rubble, blood that had long since cooled and had started to congeal.

His attention was more fully on Thrawn as they came to a halt outside a house and perhaps as Thrawn had expected he stood as rooted to the spot outside the threshold until he was invited inside. If he was surprised that Thrawn's guards were there too, he didn't show it. If their meeting went sour, he had his means of escape, anyway.

"I have to say I'm surprised you found a house that's still whole in this area. Especially one not packed with squatters already."