"No." For a short while, that answer is all he gives. He hadn't come from a masquerade, after all, and his own story isn't really something he wants to elaborate on without a few drinks in him. Besides, he likes the quiet. After a few moments, however, he speaks again. "I come from a place not so different than this one, if all this talk of monsters is to be believed."

As he speaks, Vengarl doesn't bother looking at his companion at all. His eyes are trained on either side of the street, looking for the bar that they've set out to find. He absently passes Naveen one of the pamphlets he's been handed about werewolf transformations.

"Where do you hail from, that you can afford to wear such fancy clothes?"

He's speaking of the clothing's quality, of course, but also of the fact that Naveen can apparently wear them without dirtying them up with a day's labor, or fearing the teeth of some creature.