[ If there's one advantage to having lived an ascetic lifestyle for so long it's that his needs are simple and easily satisfied—which is just as well, as the master bedroom is the first one to be claimed.

He settles on the bedroom next to the kitchen: a modest space that's bright and clean, with a large window and a door that locks. There's no bed, no real furniture to speak of beyond the large built-in closet on the far wall, but he'll take the illusion of privacy until a better alternative can be found. ]

[ The party is a sombre affair despite the obvious attempts made to lighten the mood; never really one for such gatherings, Ren retreats to a quiet corner to pick over a jar of peaches and observe.

Natives thread their way through the crowds, distributing items with an almost religious care. He plucks another peach from his jar, pressing it to his mouth absently.

Eventually one of them make their way toward him, extending a pair of gloves expectantly. Crosh-hide, he notes, turning them over once he is alone again, a pricey indulgence, so it is a shame that they are far too small to be his. ]

[ There is nothing of value to be learned, Ren concludes; like before they are offered vagaries and half-truths and are expected to blindly accept them as fact.

That isn't going to work for him.

Late afternoon is transitioning into evening by the time his patience gives way entirely, leading him to slip outside in the hopes of taking advantage of everyone's distraction. Reims is a large place, after all, and if they are unable to provide him with satisfactory answers he is more than willing to ferret them out himself. ]

[ Feel free to hit me up at resurrectionist if you'd like something else! ]