"That so?" Probably literally, considering the Storm. That's perhaps not the best thread to pursue at the moment, particularly if he's fresh off the boat. He lights the smoke and clacks the zippo shut, taking a long drag to ease off the lingering irritation at Voss's flapping mouth.

"Well for one you can expect to throw the laws of nature out the window. It's a regular trip to Disneyland, except all that fairy tale bullshit is actual factual and not make-believe. But more importantly?"

Here, he casts a look over his shoulder. They're making good tracks, most of the herd is sticking to the camp and no one looks to be in good earshot. "They're pretty quick to pull the refugees into their one thousand year pissing contest. There's been casualties and a lot of misplaced blame. Molotov cocktails through your windows and public examples made."

And here, his smile goes grim and thin, cigarette tilted out the side and fuming up like it's the smoke of his own burning ire. "People were taken hostage, recently."