"It's hard to say."

The situation is some measure of desperate, isn't it? Losing so much, having so little means to rebuild.

John is not a father. (There had been a child in the dream, the Herald illuminating a trajectory for his life that had not come to pass.) He cannot say whether the people of this village would send their children away.

"It might be worth discussion. Maybe those who stay here are the ones capable of rebuilding, and the strain on the next village is reduced somewhat. Or maybe they all stay, and we need to divert a few wagons of resources to make sure they're on their feet in time for winter."

A hand turns, a shrug of a gesture. There are options. None of them will be easy.