"Makes sense. You're just a little more considerate than I am." He smiled and walked, hands lung in his pockets as he rolled the cigar in his mouth.
"Yeah, acquired taste. But then again, you didn't think you'd like beer either and you were drinking like a fish the other night."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "We're all strays in one way or another. Until someone takes us in, licks our wounds. Then we all end up strays again eventually. Whether it be by death or other means. Just the wacky way the world turns."
He watched the concrete, the cracks in the broken pieces as he walked, listening to her. "Not a bad sound to hear honestly. Not much of a talker myself. More of a..." He pondered the word for a moment. "Brooder is the word a few have taken to back home."