Redhawk Caldera I'd rather make it mine.

"Peregrine," he repeats. "Pleasure." Not really. The boy gives him the creeps. But perhaps that is good--if Blackfeather really is as bad as Ceara had described, the stranger would fit right in. Maybe Peregrine has knowledge. . .or even more. Would he be so lucky, to stumble upon this today.

"So you live down the mountain?" the prince asks, having not gotten a very concrete answer from the quiet one. "I am looking for a place to stay, myself. Where do you live?" He is pushing it, he thinks. This young man surely is not dumb, if he has survived the kinds of horrors that leave those marks on the skin. It is innocuous enough, right? To inquire into a place to stay?

Deception has never been his strong suit. This is very new to him.