Snuffing out the remains of a cigarette in the soil, midas groaned, sitting on the hood of an old truck. In the distance he could see the smoke rising from his prior residence, and grumbled. Fuckin' raiders. Pulling one of the three canteens he nicked off his attackers, and took a swig. Some good 'shine.
 Capping his drink, he stood, popping his joints as he prepared to move out. He turning, his attention fell on a neglected ranch, and he paused. Leaning back against he truck, he ran a hand across his jaw, and grumbled. He needed a place to recooperate. And he could still feel the broken ribs shifting. Shit...


[h2]Ranch House, Unknown Location[/h2]

 Populated. But these people arent bearing a mark. Not raiders...what the hell are they doing here then? Must have plenty of supplies to have so many people. A comunity? Would have noticed them on his last pass through. Hmmm...
 As Midas stepped onto the ranch grounds, he gave a glance around.there were kids here. Didnt look like a type lived here. Didnt look like they were to dug in either. Lighting up a cigarette, he took in a drag, and sighed. No buisness being discreet. Would only make them more weary...the forward approach seemed best here.
 Wihout giving a glance for anyone outside, his foot rapidly banged on the front door of the main house.
 "Oi! Lookin' for the boss around here. Lookin' to talk"