You follow Glenn from the seaside shack around the corner to a smaller, conjoined shack. A large wooden shelf exends from the side of the shack, onto which Glenn throws the sack of fish. The door is opened long enough for Glenn to drag out a large tub and a couple of knives. He shows you how to de-scale and clean a fish out. Then, he pats each down with some 'curing spice' from the tub and throws it on a rack. By the time you've prepared seven fish, Glenn has finished off the remaining fourty.
"So, are you a fisherman, or does everyone you know clean a fish like that?"
"I'm one of the few. The rest of us fishers are scattered around the shore. My strip starts fifty yards to the right and goes out to the left as far as I want it to. The Oxys are all over the place, but they help us fishers out by fighting off some of the larger critters out there." Glenn hoists the rack into the smoker and rests a finished rack on the shelf you were just using. He helps himself to some and offers it to you as well. Naturally, its perfectly smoked.
You turn your gaze to the lapping ocean and you realize just how foreign it all looks. "Where are we?" you think to ask.
"Alcrux. Its an all-bunny town."
"We're not in Kansas anymore," you quietly muse.
"Where's Kansas?"
"Never heard of Kansas?" A simple shake of the head and a look of bewilderment are all the answers you need. "It's right in the middle of America."
"Well, where is that?"
Well, the ocean didn't look that foreign.
"It's back where I'm from, which is apparently a long ways away."
"Well, there must be some way to get back there. I assume you want to get back home sooner or later, right?"
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