Carson knew that some Striders snapped under the pressure of their duties. Being alone was hard, and even with the efforts he'd made to centralize and organize. "It must have been before I came to the region," he mused. That much, at least, seemed obvious. When she took his arm he cocked an eyebrow and looked down at his own exposed skin. Her touch was soft, he noticed. It occurred to him all at once that he hadn't had much close physical contact like this. One did not typically voluntarily take a Strider's hand. "Do you mean Gregor? He had a skull tattoo on his wrist?" He touched his own arm, smoothing his fingertips up and down the skin there.<br/><br/>That felt familiar. A skull tattoo, right on the wrist. He knew he'd heard of something similar before, or perhaps had seen it, but he couldn't place where. He shook his head a little. "Maybe this is where the two of our groups start over. With us, here and now. I've been working to organize the local Striders. I started a new settlement, a secret place called Central where the local Striders can meet and trade intel. It's where I heard Gregor had died, actually." His hand flexed idly. "I'll keep this a secret, obviously, but... still. I can't help but imagine what Striders and Land Runners could do together with the right sort of cooperation. This is incredible, Malia."