"What? No," Faolan insists quickly. Being a Guardian isn't quite the same as an officer of the law in the regular sense of the word, but he knows better than to do any sort of drugs these days. And he doesn't think he's given anyone the opportunity to slip him anything. He hopes not, anyway.

Of course, there's no easy way to describe what it is that is happening. How do you tell a random guy on the street that he's hearing things because he'd bumped into him? That would hardly go over well either.

"Who are you?" he decides to settle on instead. Because 'what are you' had been just there, on the tip of his tongue.