IANTO
Unlike Amalia, Ianto's prints were the deep, sturdy kind left by boots that intended to keep out all snow and wet. For a man who was more fox than anything else, Ianto still enjoyed his creature comforts. Hearing questions about Northaven, while unexpected, was not unwelcome, Ianto flashing a golden smile her way and shrugging. "I did the same thing as I do here," he said. "I was a merchant, though I was apprentice to another. He ran a string of caravans - Wumpus Wagons, they were called."
Recalling Warren and his days at Northwind and later, Northaven, Ianto sighed. "It was... different," he agreed. "I was a slave there, too, and I got into a lot of debt and really fucked up the business. In reality, coming here was a welcome escape. Or it would have been, had I not arrived alone."
Recalling Warren and his days at Northwind and later, Northaven, Ianto sighed. "It was... different," he agreed. "I was a slave there, too, and I got into a lot of debt and really fucked up the business. In reality, coming here was a welcome escape. Or it would have been, had I not arrived alone."
i know places we can hide
