“That’s a terrible idea.” Warren said, without missing a beat, but his expression never shifted. He pulled his weight for the Bidones. Things had been exceptionally difficult following his father’s death, and Ren hadn’t even been in the country for the immediate aftermath. Patching up what he could was the least he could do in the face of his mother’s generosity. “But you can give me a run down of human activity over the last six months.”
“There were suspicious people. Call them mundane, but they owned guns,” he said, retorted. “I’d sniff out what I can, but things are going pretty well so far. I’m content with this peaceful atmosphere,” he said.














