He'd almost made it. It was actually a peaceful walk down to the front of Last Hearth and he'd managed to avoid bothering anyone or being bothered until about the last leg. George looked away from the center of the street, as he'd been watching the crowds, to address the voice hailing him. A woman, armed - not that that was particularly rare or unsettling at this point he just found himself taking stock of what was a threat - and without an immediately apparent occupation. At first, he was confused as to why she'd ask him if he was busy. But why chance it? "No, I'm just going to the gate to find work. Why do you ask?" It wasn't uncommon for people to ask for help around here. They lived out of each others' ways and in each others' company, and he'd gotten used to pitching in what he could where he could to keep focused, even if he didn't particularly trust anyone in town yet.