Tell you now, there's a lot more of us than them in places like this. Lucky us.

[ Maybe that's by design. The ones that don't belong drift from world to world, until they find wherever they fit. Maybe that's what all of this is about. He can't begin to wrap his head around any of it.

But he knows that squabbling among themselves makes it a lot harder than it has to be. Would for her too. He'd rather not see that. ]

Anyway. You need food, or we start running short for any reason, come find me. I'll make sure you get what you need.

[ A hand is offered out to her, well-calloused, with rough scarring along the back. ]

Charles Smith.