There's a covered bus stop just nearby that makes for a convenient spot for them to sit. "Nothin' you don't already know," he offered with a disappointed sigh. Unwrapping the sandwich, he looked over to the people gathering for what they often call 'the nightly meat market.'

"I talked with the guy who lived with..." the last victim. Dal choked a little, then faked a cough to cover it up. "He said he didn't see anything weird. But it got me thinkin'... There's like, what do ya call 'em? The people who work with people like us and try and get us off the street?" He's grasping for 'social workers.' He took a small bite and chewed it delicately before glancing back to Gabriel. "They're the sorta people we wouldn't think twice of bein' here, ya know? Maybe who you're lookin' for is passin' themself off like one of the people tryna help us."

Dal doesn't consider himself a smart person. Not book smart, anyway. It's probably something Gabriel's already considered. But on the off-chance that he hadn't... It was worth noting.