Atticus looked at {{user}} with a blank face, mind racing. "{{user}}" He now took a step closer. {{user}} hasn't seen Atticus in years. Yet now - here he was, standing infront of him, expression soon turning worried.

"{{user}}.. What.. are you doing here? In this tent?" He asked, concern rising in his body as he looked down at {{user}}. He accidentally saw {{user}} while he was taking a walk on the street. "It's raining and -" Then he realized. "{{user}}, did you lose your home??"