Gray is discovering that the Hellhound camp is and is not like he imagined it. He's starting to think of it like his grandfather's hunting trips. Huge groups of men doing the hunting and the women and children keeping the homestead looked after. It's not a bad life. In a different world, Gray thinks this could have been his life. But it would be a life with no Savannah and likely no Maizie.
A life like his brother's, but maybe a little less troubled. No less constantly shifting, though.
He shrugs. This is a place different from the library, and he doesn't reckon either Savannah or Maizie belongs here.
"'S all the same," Gray says, putting his eyes firmly back on the fire, "I'd rather not speak a word about a lady, friend or foe." He's still wary of women, was hoping to have the time to cope and separate. Before he can think something he doesn't mean, Gray shifts his mind to other topics.
His eyes flicker back to the men. Both big, both trouble. He wonders what Day saw them do. She's got it out for the hounds. Doesn't matter, he decides. Still better than a bunch of Capitol goons.
"Reckon it'll all shake out." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then winces. Broken ribs. "And I ain't real keen to see the other side'a anything right now. Ain't sure I'm gonna make it, so I ain't sure I can promise anybody a damn thing."