"We use a different calendar where I'm from, my birthday wouldn't mean anything to you."

"Please feel free to go 'fuck off, none of your business' over trying for immediately, obviously untrue lies."

Cam takes his coat off.

" - Yeah, I saw that some of the clones had those too, earlier.  So: you a winter solstice, friends with one, enemies with one . . ."

"No, I'm a demon." He makes a hot dog and takes a bite.

". . . okay . . ."

"I can make arbitrary material objects. Which, if you're here wondering about rent on the campsite or something like that, would be more convenient for me than currency, though I can do that if I gotta."

"The campsite's free to use.  And if any interesting people come a-knocking I probably don't want to have received anything of particular value from you."

"Understandable."

"Really I would like to know exactly the amount of information to prevent, should interesting people come a-knocking, it being expectable that they'll say to me, 'What, you mean you weren't at all curious about all this weird shit?  Why didn't you investigate?' instead of taking whatever scraps I give them and carrying on to follow the trail those lead along."

"I am afraid I have no specific experience at crowd control or the management of public opinion with which to advise you."

She sighs.  "You're expecting crowds."

"I don't know if I'm expecting crowds and certainly don't know if I'm expecting them before Felicity manages to find a good real estate option, but it would not bewilder me. I haven't been giving out this address, if that helps."

". . . Well.  Why are you here in particular in the first place."

"When I arrived in the universe I was nearby here, and I wanted a place to stash objects and take naps and stuff."

"Well," she repeats.  "I may be selling this place anyways, as it happens.  At some point."

"Oh, cool, how much?"

"The farmhouse, the field on this side of the river, and a bit out on the other to Windover past Druid's Hollow.  Kind of a triangle shape."  She gestures to the lines implied by the edge of the forest and by where the cultivated land gives way to natural moor.

"What's your asking price?"

"It's still being surveyed and evaluated."

"Order of magnitude?"

"A hundred or two gold."

"Cool. Felicity, can you look into revenue-generating opportunities for me there?"

"I have been."

"Thanks, you're a peach." He consults her sweater. "A plum."