Q managed to make it to the Hold. His cache had been molested in his absence: something had tried to get into the food and water. It had not succeeded but there were teeth marks all over the containers, and the cache's contents were spread around haphazardly and not in the orderly manner they had originally been set. Everything was there, though. There was that.<br/><br/>He was met with ambivalence as he entered the Hold. A noted and known loner, everyone noticed that Q was injured but nobody stopped to offer him aid or comfort. The most daring eyed him with suspicion, trying to assess whether the risk to take whatever he had was worth it. Q was not, after all, truly part of the Hold and as such, his legal status was not widely understood fully or well. Did he enjoy the protection of Uncle's laws? That ambiguity offered Q some mild protection. But as Q passed a gaggle of skinny, underfed children, their eager whispers flitted to his ears:<br/><br/>"It's Us-Mc!" Pronounced 'Us' as in 'bus' and 'Mc' as in 'McDonald's.'<br/><br/>". . . no monster . . ."<br/><br/>". . . but his bang-banger-"<br/><br/>"-big see-far missing . . ."<br/><br/>Nobody failed to notice that Q was not packing and not in his signature behemoth of a vehicle. The children ran off, and who know what ears they would eager whisper this news into.<br/><br/><hr/>Meat. The warlord to the North. Locked in conflict with the Black Teeth and the Sisters of Mercy, eager for an edge in that struggle. A far ride, though: a fort night's round trip to get rid of the thing. But Meat has the scratch and the desire for such a thing, and selling it to him means anyone left standing won't be in a position to turn it on Rez. At least, not a position that'd be very strong: Rez could give the last faction standing a swift kick in the dick and be queen of the mountain.<br/><br/>Kerchief. A nomadic merchant. She'd take it. It's about time for her caravan to be making its way back; give or take a month or so. But that would mean keeping it secure to make the sale, contingent on Kerchief's trade circuit paying out dividends and leaving her with filthy lucre. Kerchief is cheap; she wouldn't turn the monster on Rez: bullets are too fucking expensive.