[ Honestly, he doesn't mind it— he feels like his eyes should adjust eventually, even if they stay painful for a while. ]

Is it always this bright here? I think I just need a few moments to adjust. I wanted to see where this is.

[ But perhaps this person is right; Noir will push himself up and do his best to keep his head down, bringing his hands back up the moment they're free. Shame he didn't have his hat here; the brim would've helped tremendously.

He finally gets a look at the person who's stopped to help him, though, and he offers up a lopsided little smile. ]

I thank you for your assistance; I do hope I haven't interrupted your day.

[ And back up the stairs we go, into the blessed indoors. He might be closing that door they walk through with a little too much vigor. But he's visibly relieved and relaxes against the wall once he's closed it, slumping forward.

Looking up again, he tries to take in his savior's appearance. His eyes are still a bit wonky from the light change, but... A young... man? Very beautiful, at least. And purple eyes. Perhaps he's from Amberground as well; only Albisians like himself possessed those eyes. Usually also silver hair, but one of his parents may not have been an Albisian. ]

I'm sorry, are you from Amberground?