If Aloy senses any wariness from Wrench, it might be easily explained away with everything that transpired at the last gathering for the new summoned. Her homestead made for a surprising locale, but there was no mistaking the man’s delight at his surroundings for the time he spent there. A few spoils of that evening still remained — the felled hogs were the first to give Wrench the idea of collecting their offal, and the big man made off with a couple of their skins for his trouble, too. Much as he tried to set right some of the snares and traps the chaos had triggered, he can’t say for certain they left her place as good as they found it.

So when he sees her now, maybe he’s half-expecting a lecture. Wrench sets down the knife and wipes a few remnants of blood from his hands onto the grass before offering his own wave by way of greeting.

I won’t say no, if you have the time. Not sure what winters in Solvunn look like, but I thought I should get ready.