Wheeling Gull Isle corn liquor tastes sweeter in this town

A better chance of what? Survival? Perhaps that was why any of them formed these cohesive groups, at least the ones not bound by creed. But the personal reasons were always different, that much he had discovered in the short span of time he had spent in the Hollow. Some wanted to raise their families as they pleased, others wanted a sense of security. Some, like Connor, wanted to find their purpose. All of them seemed reasonable, based on that alone, but who was he to begrudge them of such?

The sand shifted loosely underneath his feet, the warmth of it not yet a comfort.

"And what path is that?" he asked, gaze honing in on the wolf shrewd and curious. Void of expression, he did not consider that he would seem intrusive, or at minimal, hawkish in his grasp for answers. There were only few it had ever perturbed, at least openly and the sum of the limited to the vastness of the rolling mountains and valleys of this particular microcosm of sorts.