Seaside Moors a weak and repellent man at his worst

opportunist, huh? briggs liked the sound of that, and grinned at her again. "not too picky 'bout what i put in my belly," he drawled, peering over the roll of terrain, before he looked back to heph. "got enough other tastes t'be picky over."
a wink added, and colt rolled his shoulders. "goat then. let's go find one."
they'd travel a while for that, he suspected, more toward the sea and the thin raise of rock marking the end of the wide field.
"how long yew been around these parts?" he asked affably.