Most wouldn't even think to offer an apology, and the boy does seem contrite. Joshua feels himself soften slightly. This is just a boy - a boy who has almost certainly traveled far - and a boy with no mind toward trouble. His horrified expression, his words tell as much.

The boy's voice is noteworthy, touched with an accent Joshua can't pinpoint. There's something of the old world to it, something of sounds that gathered dust for years. He's heard something of its kind before, but that was years ago, amid so many other meetings. Perhaps if he hears more, he'll put the pieces together.

"We all stray from time to time. And I appreciate your contrition."

He watches the boy for another moment. "What is your name, child?"