Kay hang back for a moment while Enn got off the truck and started introducing himself, not because she did not want to stand by him when officially meeting their leader, but because she had to detach her cart from the truck so Ell and the others could resume their patrol. Some of the other Eighfourians seemed to realize that Enn was not one of them while he was speaking, staring at him with wide eyes, whispering to each other with expressions of curiosity and concern and generally plotting the routes they had been walking along before his appearance so that they gave him a wide berth. One man – one of the ones that had been talking to Gramps when they arrived – seized a handgun by his side, but was stopped by an admonishing finger from Gramps before he could even draw the weapon, despite the leader of Eighfour not even looking in his direction. His attention – intense and neutral, seeming neither wary nor trusting yet – was focused solely on Enn. Despite wanting nothing more than to believe that Gramps would solve everything and that he would just immediately accept Enn’s help, Kay’s attention was nevertheless held breathlessly by the two of them, a hard knot forming in the pit of her stomach as unbidden thoughts of what would happen if Gramps decided to treat Enn as a hostile, or simply discarded the man as a burden. She knew Gramps to be a warm and protective man, but also an extremely practical one, almost pragmatic at times... Chances were that even if he decided to trust Enn and wanted to protect him, he might cast him out if he deemed him not worth feeding and protecting. He would want to help Enn, and to accept Enn’s help, Kay was sure of this, but Gramps was also responsible for all of Eighfour; he had to make the decision that was for the best of the faction. Gramps’ eyes scanned Enn from head to toe, lingering occasionally on parts of his equipment, but always returned to Enn’s face shortly, letting him know that he was listening intently. Only when Enn had finished his introduction did Gramps let his gaze stray from the stranger momentarily, darting to Kay immediately, then to Ell, and finally back to Enn. “You take care of things here for a moment, Chubby,” he said over his shoulder, prompting a quick affirmative from a woman with a pretty average build holding an electronic PDA. “Continue preparations and make sure to keep the perimeter secure. I need a moment with Enn-Que.” ‘Chubby’ - whose name was actually Ex-Ell and got her nickname from her name being the same as the initialism of “extra large”, just as people would annoy Ell by greeting him with “Hello, Ell-Oh!” on the street in less stressful times - started directing the Eighfourians coming for instructions to speak to her, and Gramps left behind the crowd to approach Enn. “My name is Dee-A, but everyone calls me Gramps. You must be weary with everything that has happened,” he told the soldier with a measured smile. “Let’s talk in my quarters. Food was one of the first things we packed up, unfortunately, so I can’t offer a proper meal just this moment, but I think I might still have some crackers in a cupboard, or some cookies. And I’ll make something to drink. Do you prefer tea or coffee?” “You come too, Kay-Gee,” he remarked just as Kay came up next to Enn with her cart, earning a grateful smile from her. It was just like Gramps to spot how things fit together without anyone having to explain it to him. Kay happily followed, and together they headed to Gramps’ quarters. His “quarters” was actually a ten by seven meter shack just a short way from the center of the settlement, just a few minutes’ walk from where they had found him, barely discernible from the multitude of other small structures lining the streets beyond it seeming perhaps a little more worn than the others, with a metal door that bore signs of having been repeatedly mended, and the dirt in front of which bore signs of being heavily traveled. They traveled mostly in silence until they got there, where Gramps opened the creaking door and bid them both inside the somewhat cramped space inside. The entire structure was made up by just a single room, though the two ends of the room were furnished for different purposes. The end they entered was clearly where Gramps received guests, with an old, well-worn dining table and wooden chairs took up most of the open space, and a series of cupboards and closets lining the two adjoining walls to their right. The other end, to their far left, seemed to be much more for personal use, containing a small unmade bed, a closet and a chest of drawers, but also a desk facing the wall, filled with piles of random junk around an turned-off PDA and various devices in different states of disrepair. “Have a seat,” Gramps offered with a gesture at the dining table, heading straight for the string hanging from the naked light-bulb in the ceiling, pulling it to turn on the light; the shack, like all buildings in Eighfour, had no windows. They closed the door behind them, leaving the room lit solely by the cold electrical light. “So,” he said, leaning against a cupboard once they were fully in private. He still did not smile, but simply looked at Enn intently with a decidedly neutral expression. “An Anderekian soldier who actually had enough independent thought to realize that your faction couldn’t care less whether you lived or died, and that [I]before[/I] you got yourself shot or lost any of your equipment. If you’d be presumed dead and lost there must’ve been a battle. Probably with the Trenians. And the Anderekians lost.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose you know whether the Anderekians or Trenians use AI?”