JOSH
Josh usually preferred to stay in wilderness, where it was easier to hide and be alone, to collect his thoughts...but the best investigations always happened in cities, where people and business and information all resided together. The closest thing to a city the Hollowed Ground seemed to have was Sanctuary, so he headed towards the buildings he could see in the distance, until he was within the town.
There was certainly a lot to look into. More finer, larger buildings than expected, more diversity than he had thought possible in such a small place...though he supposed if this were the hotspot for inter-dimensional travellers it seemed to be, that made sense. He walked down the streets with a frown on his features, looking to each shopfront and person with analytic eyes, trying to see how it all fit together.
It was only when he smelt the sweet scent of baking that he realised he was hungry; almost immediately he was aware of a yawning ache in his stomach, and that it had been a long time since he had eaten, and that when he had, it had been some Pot Noodles in his trailer. Hunger was a distracting problem and needed to be rectified, so he quickly turned into the bakery.
He had no money. Usually he wouldn't care, having no moral qualm with stealing if he needed to, but it was best to avoid a terrible reputation this quick in the new place. Looking at the counter, he wondered what currency was used here, if any: he had not seen any money changing hands so far. Hands in his pockets, he stared at the pastries and bread, seemingly waiting for a shop attendant yet also completely involved in his own world.
There was certainly a lot to look into. More finer, larger buildings than expected, more diversity than he had thought possible in such a small place...though he supposed if this were the hotspot for inter-dimensional travellers it seemed to be, that made sense. He walked down the streets with a frown on his features, looking to each shopfront and person with analytic eyes, trying to see how it all fit together.
It was only when he smelt the sweet scent of baking that he realised he was hungry; almost immediately he was aware of a yawning ache in his stomach, and that it had been a long time since he had eaten, and that when he had, it had been some Pot Noodles in his trailer. Hunger was a distracting problem and needed to be rectified, so he quickly turned into the bakery.
He had no money. Usually he wouldn't care, having no moral qualm with stealing if he needed to, but it was best to avoid a terrible reputation this quick in the new place. Looking at the counter, he wondered what currency was used here, if any: he had not seen any money changing hands so far. Hands in his pockets, he stared at the pastries and bread, seemingly waiting for a shop attendant yet also completely involved in his own world.
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