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For a total of one whole day, Thrain had been on the reserve. It was alright so far, but today he had to find his own place to live. They'd let him stay in one of the many guest rooms for the first night, but he really wanted to start working on his own little version of a safe place. Even if it was small, that was fine. So long as it was something to call a temporary home.
This necessitated that he wander the reserve in search of homes. It would be silly to stop and ask someone where he could get a home when he could just go out and do it himself. Unfortunately that meant he got a little lost and ended up finding something that looked like houses. Huh...
So placidly the horseman wandered by the houses, blinking at them and pausing every so often. One in particular had him pausing, especially when the door he'd stopped in front of opened.

It was just then that a certain blonde Death horseman did happen to get walloped by a certain thrown bag from a certain blonde War horsewoman. Thankfully, he had experienced a number of things being thrown at him over the years. Mostly cold things in the most recent of times, but always very heavy and painful to be on the receiving end of said object. To have a bag tossed at his face, one full of probably knick knacks or clothing, that was nothing! It was like having a pillow tossed at his face!
"Greetings, thrower of bags." Thrain spoke up as he held out his hands and watched the bag fall down to them. For a moment he blinked at the bag, then up at the woman in the doorway. War, rather tall, pretty but also a little scary.
"I do believe this belongs to you." Unsure of what else to do, he held out the bag to her with a neutral expression.

While The Lairs were wholly unfamiliar for him, the War clan was only a little more familiar so when the woman before him literally bristled from hearing someone unknown that wasn't horribly out of place. But the reach for the dagger, a summoned weapon where it was not necessary made the Guardian tense up. Sudden attacks were everyday occurrences on post, for how was a good Guardian supposed to protect his Priestess if his response time was slow? But response time and the need to launch into an attack were not one in the same, the Guardian only stood there with his hands tensed around the bag, waiting for what would happen. As he stood there, the War woman looked him over, unsummoned her dagger and returned his greeting. Quite belatedly.
One eyebrow rose slowly at her cautious word, shifting slowly from tensed back to... Mildly confused. What was going on? It was his first day! He just... Wanted a home?

"Ah..." What a question! Because he was, but in more than just the directional sense. But it would be rude to assume this War woman was rude, perhaps just... Off kilter. Given what had happened to them all, her understood. So in attempt to ease her he squared his shoulders and let one side of his mouth tilt up in a friendly manner. "Yes. I am. I am... Looking for a place to live. I am new... Fresh off post and... Quite lost."

Watching he move out from the house felt a bit like watching a large cat slink its way around. It felt an odd comparison, but Thrain really could not help but feel that if he were not careful he might be mistaken for a mouse. Which really would have done everyone a disservice for he'd hate to have to inform the War woman that he was not a mouse and because she was War she might want to fight and that would be a horrible way to come to the Lairs. Anyways! Ah! She was talking again, good.
"Yesterday, in fact. They let me stay in a spare room over the night but informed me I should... Set up my own residence, as they put it." As for arriving late, Thrain ducked his head in semblance of an apology though he eyes did not raise from the ground. It was one thing to be among those that were left behind but had not been there when it happened. It was another thing entirely to talk with someone who had seen it all, who had most likely watched their loved ones perish. That was unimaginable. "I am sorry for your own delay, but I extend my warm regards in the knowledge that you did arrive at all." That was... Well that wasn't exactly what he'd meant to say but oh well. It'd been said so he hurried on, letting his gaze return back up toward her.

"Over... Over where exactly? Even a point in the general direction would do me a world of good. I just--" Oh...... Oh.
The Guardian dropped his casual demeanor and frowned at the War woman, not to mean any ill will but because of what she had said. Connections or money? How in the world was he supposed to have either of those when he'd been gone for years? A large handful of years?
And what had happened to what he'd heard? That the Clans had all banded together in this time of need, had put aside their differences, had become one?
"And how is one to earn connections and money when both are useless? Half the connections one might have had are presumably gone and money... Is there still currency here?" He asked her with a fold of arms over his barrel chest. This was not what he had wanted to hear and was not making his first actual day on the Lairs any better.

Years and years and years had been spent training in the coldest of perpetual winters, constant diligence required to keep from freezing and rigorous torments put on one's body during that time. Countenance had to be cast in iron and steel to keep from breaking under the strain of it, but it was that narrowed gaze and fold of arms from this War woman that almost had Thrain turning around and just noping his way back to post. If it was at all possible to say 'screw this I'm going home', he definitely would have. But as he kind of didn't have that option, mostly because he didn't have a home, and also because cowering against this woman would have been.... Not one bit manly, the Guardian only swallowed whatever he had wanted to say and tried to square his shoulders.
Thankfully he was freed from the harsh glare (hadn't he heard tale of how War Clansmen could stop their next kill with just a well executed frown?), but not freed from whatever game she was playing. She turned on her step so that a wing reached out toward him, invaded his space and actually touched him. Stepping back would show he was lesser, show that he was inferior so Thrain only kept his mouth a stern line as that particular feel of feathers grazed over his exposed arms.

The explanation was appreciated, however random it might have been and the Guardian ducked his head in a curt nod. Information was still useful in all regards, especially for one such as him who had been away for too long. The Four Clans were now The Lost Clans, all one but still separated by their former ways. Unfortunate, he supposed, but good to know they had not lost everything. They as a whole might be lost, but they themselves were not.
Yet the woman turned back around and frowned again, an action that caused him to stiffen under her gaze.
"Out there is a school! A school. Of children, why did we get sent here? Why not anywhere else in Halloween?" He asked in a low voice, not necessarily meaning to get her off her current track of discussion. But he had questions and so far she'd done a pretty good job of giving him answers.
"Halloween currency, tasks to collect Fear, paid for that--" He ticked off the points she made out loud, doing his best to remember all this now to be used later. Another question popped up but died when she rubbed at her forehead. Was she... Was this... Difficult for her? Those of War were naturally more standoffish and sharp, but she looked downright troubled...

However it was the offer of a home, a nice home, that made Thrain drop everything. His upright stance, his stern look, his guard. Shoulders sagged, knees relaxed from their locked position and he gave the woman a flat, incredulous look.
"What." It was supposed to be a question but it didn't really come out as such. Better to try again. "You're... You're joking with me, right? Pulling my leg, as it were? What is it you War Clan say? Pulling my feathers?" So he didn't have any of those, but the sentiment should have shone through all the same. Thrain was pretty damn sure he was being trolled and gave the War woman the appropriate 'nope' face.

Throughout the entirety of his time dealing with this War woman had given Thrain a number of very unkind and harsh looks, but this last one was tinged with an odd sense of frustration very different from the usual kind. It was something else entirely and Thrain let out a heavy huff of his own sort. It wasn't really fair that this was all confusing, but in an odd way he was glad that the woman was at least trying. That he could work with.
Her words, however, weren't necessarily all that helpful. The way she talked made it seem like the school had taken pity on them rather than done what was right. Odd way of looking at it, something that made the Guardian uncomfortable, made his skin crawl. And that was mostly because it made it seem like The Clans should be grateful for their kindness. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, as it were, Thrain shifted from one foot to other, doing what he could to hastily consider this new idea.
Should he be grateful for the little plot of sandy land where things probably couldn't grow and it would be hard to build upon? For this little bit of temporary home the Clans had been given, their poor souls nearly destroyed by the big bad Hunters?
It was not a thought that made him feel any better.

"My lucky day? Truly?" One corner of his mouth quirked up a little as a hand found his hip. "I apologize, lady. I am not gawking I am... Simply in a state of disbelief." For who would just give away their home like that? Besides someone with something else going on...
Thrain let the smile that had been threatening to break through shine through along with a small laugh.
"I will live here? Is there some reason you are vacating the place, what with those bags and things?" A finger pointed, waved between the War woman and her bags.
And he would like it? What an odd situation he had found himself in! His first day on the reservation and he had found a house so suddenly. Maybe his luck wasn't as bad as he thought it would be...