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.
Havens 4 Show more

“Now that we’re here, I get to wondering,” he says in an almost whisper, “if in the end it won’t be the brands that end us.”
He’s looking off to the west. You look in that direction, parsing his meaning. Off that way there are more towns. Towns where there are rumors of riots and bandit parties attacking other towns.
It dawns on you, and your mind completes his thought.
“I get to wondering if in the end it’ll be us that end ourselves”