But why was he telling this guy all this anyway? He had his fair share of strange beings that he trusted, like Clockwork, and Princess Dora, and here in the bar, Foxtrot (who was a paragon of weird, as far as Danny was concerned).

That didn't mean he didn't have a healthy sense of paranoia.

"Look, you seem trustworthy enough, but I'm not exactly going to spout out my life story or talk about...judgment, unless I know more.

Who are you? More importantly, what are you? How did you talk in my head--was that some form of telepathy or somthing?"

He hadn't taken a sip yet from his cup of tea.

Oh, it looked tasty enough, and smelled good, but he'd learned a lesson from Harth Fray--you didn't drink things strangers offered you.