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	Jack chuckled. He knew there wasn’t much point in trying to hide his outlandish circumstance, at least not from the Blacksmith. Torn, despite his brutish size and beaten face, had a certain refines dignity about him, and that was something Jack felt like he could trust. Even so, he wasn’t prepared to spill everything. That would be a tremendous mistake, that is, if Torn was of the mind to believe him at all. 

‘A land very, very far from here, sir.’ Jack turned to Torn, stuffed his hands modestly into the pockets of his jeans. ‘I doubt you would have heard of it.’ He took his eyes to the sunlight shining down from the open doors in the ceiling. ‘Things are a lot different around here.’

Torn somehow revealed a smirk without actually changing the expression of his deadpan face. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ 

There it was, that moment between two strangers wherein they seem to connect on a deeper level by undefined and unspoken means. Jack and Torn stood there, stare fastened to each other as they - had anyone been watching on - would have appeared to be busy reading each other’s thoughts. 

‘How long will you be with us?’ Torn finally ended the moment, a new, cryptic tone in his lowered voice. 

‘I can never really tell at first. Depends on why I’m here and what I need to do. Both of those things aren’t clear at the moment.’ Jack broke eye contact, taking his look to the closed door beside the table. ‘I guess you have all your good stuff hiding in the other room.’

Torn sneered again. ‘All my stuff is good.’ 

‘No offense, I just feel a man like you can do better than what you have on display in this room.’ 

‘Feelings are for women,’ Torn said, but he smiled at last.