Only when Ilithyia comes into view does Sawyer have a better sense of where he's ended up, and her gaze is strangely averted from his own in a manner pronounced enough that he does the same. What Rome could want with someone like Sawyer, he doesn't know. He certainly doesn't look much like the others in the area, a bit taller and certainly far too clothed for their surroundings. Helplessly, he tries to drag his fingers through his hair, pushing it back as though that little effort might make him less obvious to the people around him.

"Right," he breathes to himself, making sure that he's able to maintain his balance as he walks, in spite of the sun beating down hard above him. Not meeting anyone's gaze, he walks in the direction that Ilithyia's indicated, and not until he's in the shadow of the alley does he breathe the slightest sign of relief.