"Oh." Ghent should have felt stupid, but he didn't. Elayra had asked her fair share of questions, why shouldn't he?
	"Yeah, William is the cat. I only caught him so I'd get paid.” The irritation practically radiated off of the princess, though Ghent failed to see how this could be helped. As it was, he was on his best behavior. At least Drust seemed less angry than usual. 
	"Here on Earth, cats are kept as pets. They don't do anything. They're pretty dumb, actually." 
[b]	“People here wear crocodiles?”[/b]
	The question was absurd, yet completely serious. It took a fair share of restraint for Ghent to refrain from laughing. Speaking with someone so new to the modern world was proving difficult; there were so many phrases and references the Wonderlanders would never understand. If a conversation was to be carried on, Ghent realized he’d need to either rephrase things or better explain himself. 
	"Ah…no. Crocs are shoes with holes in them. Mrs. Saxon -- she's a friend of my mom -- she has a purse made from an alligator, though. Cost her a pretty penny.” Ghent found himself already breaking his new rule, so he was quick to elaborate. 
	"A ‘penny’ is a coin. A ‘purse’ is a...tote bag? Or...a satchel. Wonderland’s got satchels, right?” This worse than trying to communicate with a foreign exchange student.
	"That's too bad about the poaching." Ghent liked it when Drust spoke up, grumbles or not. He wanted to get as much information as he could; there was plenty swirling through his mind. So many questions yet to be answered. 
	"Aside from markets...I'm assuming you guys have to scavenge for food and hunt off the land, right? That’s cool.” Ghent answered the question himself, then looked back to the two with growing curiosity. “Who does the cooking?"
	The park was as they'd left it. Abandoned, wet, and quiet. Keeping a steady pace, Ghent lead them past the playground and down a dirt path. The path guided them away from the street and towards a few small clusters of trees. Eventually, the path wore out, though it was no longer needed. Towards the right, there stood a small, worn shack with two small windows on either side. The only means of entry was provided by a door with carved graffiti on it. Ghent walked around the shack once, then gave a nod as if satisfied with his choice. Four walls, a roof, and very much away from the general public. This would have to do.
	"Well, what do you think?"