Vanius walked towards the docks, the backpack he had been given chaffing his shoulders. The city was exploding with activity, which only distracted Vanius more. The docks were even more crowded than the street he just came from, making Vanius nervous and panicked. After breaking through the crowd he managed to get a break, and sat at a small park bench for a few minutes.

He took out a long, dark brown cigar and ran it under his nose before lighting it. "This may be the last cigar I ever enjoy" he thought before taking a deep puff. He sincerely doubted they'd let him smoke on the ship, and he might die on the ground before he got another smoke break. The duffle bag he'd been given had been making Vanius' shoulders ache, and he wanted to just leave it sitting on the ground. Maybe leave everything on the ground and just run back to his Tribe. Put the whole damn world behind him and go back to a simple life.

He laughed and shook the thought out of his head.