Angus clutches at the straps of his backpack, watching with wide eyes, his expression decidedly nervous and distressed. He's a fretful boy by nature, and it doesn't help that the one consistent adult in his life has a penchant for getting into trouble (sometimes he wonders who watches who, he should at least have his Red Cross babysitting certification by now). "You don't know for sure," he squeaks weekly.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Kravitz is picking up his keys from the little wooden table that sits next to his door. The mortuary is closed today, and he has plans to help Istus buy a baby shower gift for one of their cousins and then go back to his mother's house with her for dinner. He's dressed as he usually is for work, suit and tie and all, just because he's loathe to go home dressed in anything less than the best although he'd really rather just wear jeans on his day off. He's meeting Istus at the mall, so he's more than a little surprised when he swings open his front door to find an elf on his doorstep, reaching for the doorbell.

"Um," he says, rather eloquently, very caught off guard. "Can I help you?"