It’s a hot, hot summer evening, right at the cusp of Saturday. The saloon is busy with men and women alike, all seeking to relax after a laborious day in the settlement of Bihozho. Despite how new the town is, people have already grown comfortable with each other.

A lone man walks in, pushing past the mahogany doors. The bar falls silent, all eyes going to him. Instead of making an introduction, Jean saunters up to the bar and sits down with a huff. “I’ll take a gin and tonic, please,” he says in a distinctly Appalachian accent.