[ The stranger's uncomfortable aura rolls off of him, but Quentin's got a talent for being too stupid (stubborn?) to just leave. Plus, he's kind of fucked in terms of options. ]

Not really. [ It's a blunt and honest answer, because Quentin is socially awkward on the best of days and he knows he'd prefer people being upfront, at least with things like this. His hands move to his backpack strap, clinging onto it, pressing his lips into a thin line. ]

Look--I'm kind of over my head and you have the upper hand and I know that's at least a little fucking obvious so if you could throw me a bone I would appreciate it.

[ Was that too much? There wasn't any heat in his words. He's fairly certain he just sounds tired (which he is) and a little overwhelmed.

At least if he's said the wrong thing he can throw up a shield charm and run like hell. ]