Wait- this morning? Really? [His frown deepens as he looks up the beach, following her gaze. It's still important to make sure they're not going to be ambushed by locals. Over the heavy, stagnant smell of the sea, he's picking up traces of gunpowder, and human.] I don't- know how that works. I know I showed up here in October of last year. It was fucking freezing until I found a place to stay.

It's all magic bullshit. It's always magic bullshit. Just... trust me on this. If you're here, the fog bitch is going to change you too. That's why the locals are so upset, Changed kind of... eat them.

[His voice lowers.] Speaking of which, there's a guy coming at us behind the brush, behind you to your right. Smells like gun oil.