"Is the Clan mother a leader, or a grandma?" He asks, squatting down by the fire. The smoke seems to naturally find it's way up to the roof, so the room is surprisingly clear, warm, and cosy.

He rather likes it, despite the fact it's completely different to what he imagined Connor's village to be like. He'd always imagined conical tents on rolling plains, but perhaps that's something else, some other tribe.

"It's a lot different to the place I grew up in," Completely the opposite to the house in Crawley, in fact. Maybe that's why he likes this so much.