"Some people. Most... there's things that look like they come out of storybooks," he points out, not knowing that soon enough they'll have one.

The air is crisp, clean, and it's something he appreciates, pausing to stretch and yawn, enjoying how it feels.

"What I want," he manages, not all of it before he's done yawning. "Is to know we can handle what we need up here by ourselves. If we've got sheep, then we've got milk and butter and cheese. We get chickens? More eggs. I like that idea."