"That.... is not the first time Maro has been asked that"
He admitted with a sigh, a hand restimg upon the table, fingers tapping against the wood.
"To answer that Maro also has to say that comparing his families wandering as a picnic.... is not quite right"
He stopped the tapping of his fingers against the wood, his brows straightening as he then ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it back. The sound of a sausage being cooked upon a pan struck his ears with a sizzling sound.
"An picnic implies that everyday is pleasant, easy, a paradise without worry of the waether or of other people or creatures giving us trouble["/b]
He then paused, his eyes going to a faraway place for a single second.
"That food does not run out, that the wagons don't break down and lose a wheel or the pack animals do not get sick. But they do, and sometimes the hunt doesnt end so wel and ymwhat food you jave needs to be rationed carefully.
And some people and creatures can be cruel, or perhaps simply desperate"
And then there are people who look away from the wrongs, as if it werr only natural or right for it to happen.
"I suppose in that way settling down sounds fantastic, especially because it wont jist be Maro and his famiy for almost everyday of a month.
But for people like Maro to live in the fity we're expected to act a certain way, stop doing certain things, to... whats the word? Conform?"
Maro smiled bitterly at that, sitting silent as a plate of food was placed before him with a mug of mulled ale, soon followed with the gentle thud of a mug hot cocoa being placed before Yazad.
"Would we still be Seran then?"