In comparison, Edward's hand is far more worn, both from years of crimefighting and long-healed burn wounds. His grip is steady and gentle... though it falters, just for a fleeting moment as he thinks about how long it's been since he's held his own daughter's hand. His attention snaps back to Annie when she speaks, and his smile returns.

"Of course it's okay. Just Eddie is fine as well," he responds. After a thought, he adds, "Or, Mr. Nashton. Whatever works for you. I'm not set on any one particular name." Admittedly, 'Mr. Nashton' would be a weird one for him. Too formal. And, it's a cliche, but really. Mr. Nashton is his father.

He looks around, wondering what direction to take her first. Finding a Welcome House for her could come later. For now it might be better to get her more comfortable with the city. "The market in the Southern District, I think," he mutters. He turns back to Annie. "Is there anything more you wanted to know? I can try to explain things while we walk."