He absorbed all of it in stunned silence. He brushed his hand over the carved raven. He had seen it before in a handful of other places, but never understood it. But now it made all sorts of sense. An entire network of people dedicated to spreading news and forging a path between each settlement. He'd never questioned how word spread between towns, had chalked it up to merchants and migrants. He looked at the makeshift gear, the maps and charts and supplies, and slowly shook his head. "Why keep it a secret?" he asked softly. He turned to face her, head tilted. "Why not work with the Striders? Imagine what we could accomplish together--imagine if people knew there were more than just... me."<br/><br/>He paced around the room and paused in front of the racks of raider gear, tugging at the leather harnesses and makeshift weaponry. Had it been Malia who'd sent word of Gregor's death? Had it been her brother? The world was more connected than he'd ever dared assume. "Imagine if you had access to our resource caches. Our weapons. Our intelligence. If we pooled what we knew." He turned back to her and chuckled, at a loss for how else to respond. "This is a little mind-blowing."