Wheeling Gull Isle corn liquor tastes sweeter in this town

A garden growing on the island? This was news to him, truly a surprise, though his lack of expression betrayed it. There was a moment that passed where he wondered why he hadn't been told of such, though perhaps he was simply meant to find it on his own, he reasoned. But at least Connor would keep his eyes open for things that would be of use to them, even if the coywolf wasn't entirely sure how he intended to get such done if he did not wander at least a little.

But that was taking things a little too literally and he knew it.

"I'm sure you'll find other uses for your exploration," but if he didn't, then that was on him. He simply assumed he didn't need to tell the other what he could have used such a skill for—the applications were as numerous as they were useful. But the idle chatter wore on him and like the recluse he was very much still, he felt the pull to flee to the brush.

"I should return to my duties," he said, hoping to disengage from their conversation.