He wandered. That was what he did now with his sister gone and his brother being in control of New Orleans until summer hit. The way that Klaus figured it, the division worked for the fae, it would work for Elijah and himself. He had no other recourse. He had to save his city, and his city had to be prepared for his daughter (even while he planned for the child’s mother to convientely disapper).
He had to allow for the city’s growth and through that, he had to leave, and so he did. He dodged the cracks in the sideways, ignored the looks that people gave him, as he thrust his hands deeper into his pockets, and kept his back turned towards where he wanted to go: the sea. No matter how close he got to the beach, without Elijah and Rebekah at his side, he wouldn’t step on the sand.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he looked to the stranger, and he tried to infuse a sort of bored politeness into his tone: “you wouldn’t happen to know where the Town Centere is, do you?”
He had something he needed to look up. Things to find. Lineage to trace.