He sits on a bench, in octodon.social. Octodon is a mid-sized town in the confederation.

“Yea, I was there,” he starts, looking at nothing in particular.

“I was there when the brands came to Birdsite” He fidgets a little on the bench, obviously uncomfortable.

“They came, and the people started to turn. Turn into _them_.” He almost spits the word.

“Said they had to curate their personal brands.” His eyes have a deep sadness to them as he looks at the clear sky.