Not that Xander isn't perfectly capable of telling people off himself. He is, it's just not his first reaction--he's used to trying to be more of a peacemaker. His twin is the prickly one, back home. Xander smooths all the feathers that Alex ruffles, literally.

He follows casually enough, furling his wings tighter so that he doesn't bump into anyone. Well, as best as he can--this train isn't as spacious as he could hope.

Glad he didn't have a bad case of claustrophobia, though...

"Really?" It might seem stranger, save he'd been adopted into his brother's foster clan, and if nothing else, they had food in copious amounts, available any time. "That's pretty cool, but where does it come from? Or did we just come from a restock station?" The latter concept made sense to him, at the very least...