It'd been two weeks that Bobole had been coming here, a rather long time for him, and it did have a rather nice view, not to mention so many delicious gulls to eat and crabs to play with. In his mind that settled it, this would be his new home, he should probably tell chief Redhair not to bother with the house...probably. But he would need a few more homey touches, he looks over to a lounging Scaly "Come on, we got a trip to the dump!...Trips, actually." minuets, hours, he wasn't sure how long it took him to get everything he needed, but eventually he did. An old barrel for a table, rusty steel shield resting upon stones as a cooking station, a wheelless wagon for a bed (said wheels had been burned for amusement.) with a fine dress (before Bobole stole it.) served as covers, and a chest served as a desk. But his true pride was a bookshelf cobbled of driftwood, made by his own hands (and excessive amounts of nails.) But as he surveyed his sizable home he realized it's just a bit too bare, looking at the dull stone walls he glanced over to Scaly, and grinned.
