Ned is so preoccupied with Ginsberg's alarm that he doesn't get a good look at what kind of shop it is that they duck into. All he knows is that when Ginsberg saw the man he'd pointed to, his face went white and he acted as if he'd seen some kind of ghost. Ned doesn't question him, yet, lets himself be dragged into the nearest convenient store. In his worry, he forgets his usual decorum and sets a steadying hand on Ginsberg's shoulder, a furrow forming between his brows.

"What is it, who was that?"

He tears his eyes away from the store window and turns to see what sort of place it is they've ended up in. When he turns, however, he finds himself face to face with the mounted head of a stag. There is, perhaps, a inch of space between their noses. Ned lets out a yelp, reeling back in horror. That was a close call. Much, much, much too close for his comfort. A glance around the shop reveals that it is stuffed full (pun intended) of taxidermy animals. There are dogs, cats, falcons, bears, stoats, and even a very dusty-looking tiger. It's a small shop, with far too many items in it, so that there's hardly adequate room to stand between the displays. Heart racing, Ned shoves his hands into his pockets and stands very, very still.