Even if he can't see her entirely, her laugh comes as a relief; she doesn't make a sound as she gets up, either, presumably putting the pressure on her bare foot in the process. But the more she speaks, the more he finds himself gently distracted and trying to work out why she's so familiar- then it clicks.

"Ah-- Eponine, isn't it?" he asks abruptly- then catches himself. The odds are that she can barely see him from where she is. He steps a little closer; the fact that he towers over her should hopefully click somewhere in her memory. "It's Warsman- Hattie's friend?"

The suggestion is tentative, but Warsman is fairly certain he's got her identity right- there can't be that many young women in Siren's Port who'd call him 'm'sieur'. It occurs to him vaguely that the last time he saw her she was taking his cloak and that his wallet had mysteriously disappeared soon afterwards, but that seems beyond petty right now. "I patrol the streets some nights, in case people need help. What about you?" He sounds more than a little concerned.