If there's room, Robby will approach where the keys hang to look for one of his own. If it's there, he wants to see it; though he isn't saw what he intends to do about where it goes, at least confirming he has one for himself is something. Saying, like something off-hand, not to be taken serious, "'Pends what you think's going on here. Could be nothing. We could end up stuck in a city that opens up random parts throughout the months, and we have to try and stop dying from boredom."

--Ah, there's his key. He takes it into his hand, looking at the nametag hanging from it in a way from his palm, that doesn't make it immediately visible. He bites on his lower lip slightly, briefly; uncomfortable with the item, with its possibilities, but he manages to keep it to himself--or so is the effort--when he looks at the...man.

"Or it could be a trap," he adds. A test.