Is Vandren mocking or is he just like this, slouched and indifferent to the rigors of this interview. What would (or could) he even say at this point to be pushed back across the bay on the ferry with a pack of armor in his lap?

“Hmm,” he hmms.

“Why was it that you came south?”

He nudges the prompt along with an eyebrow, the creases around his eyes sharp in contrast with the dull energy about him. Remind him, as if the information was shared elsewhere and he simply can’t recall.