The Stone village on Westbrook Mountain was already adjusting to the new normal. Most of the villages were glad to fall in line and do what was expected of them. The only ones that wanted to be exceptions to this rule were the prodigal Quinns.
They had managed to survive the acid rain and joined the village. But just as it was when they first arrived, the villagers did not welcome. It did not help that they were yet to provide the supplies they had promised.
So, they were offered shelter in a stone house belonging to an elderly man that had made it through the acid rain but nothing else was given to them. No reverence. No deference. No special treatment.
The villagers lived on the land with recent changes; they did everything as community. Everyone patched walls. Everyone went foraging for wood. Every young man and woman hunted. Everyone took a turn seeking herbs.
For the Quinns, it was hell.
