Theodore dusted off his army green blazer as he stepped outside the airport, sunglasses glaring when he looked out towards the horizon. A wide grin slid across his face, charisma dripping from his teeth.

He made sure that his luggage, two suitcases and a leather book bag slung across his shoulder, were in decent condition as he made his way towards the bus station.

"Well, I've made it," He said, seemingly to no one at all. "The land of hope and opportunity..."

He walked until he found his destination, passing by simple roads and greenery, colorful homes and Victorian architecture. The September weather was comfortable, not quite cold yet, and he almost regretted wearing wool. He should have done more research on what the weather was like in this part of New Jersey.

He sat down, opening up his little coin purse with its embroidered frogs on the front and back, double checking all the bus fare he needed was there. He’d packed enough for the week.

Making the money to get here had been hard, and he had to work with people he’d once sworn to never tolerate again, but the second he’d saved the money for this ticket, he was far away from his previous home. His prison.

He was in a new country, he could finally start over.

He looked up when the bus arrived, grin still in place. He pushed his sunglasses up, into his hairline, making sure his suitcases weren’t in the way as he boarded. 

"Hello, driver."
"Well, hello, stranger." The driver was a woman, with a bright smile and tight braids, straight and white teeth all in a pretty, symmetrical row that made Theodore feel at ease.

"I just want to confirm, I've never taken a ferry before. Is this the bus to Osprey Dock?"
"Yes, sir! That dock only has ferries to Starling Island, though. Is that where you're headed?"

He laughed, a gentle sound that seemed to envelop the entire bus.

"Why, yes, madame. This is exactly where I need to be."

He took a seat near the front, humming to himself as he kept his belongings close by, bags containing his entire life as he made way to his utopia.

Starling Isle.

Starling Isle was a small island, roughly 1,110 square miles in total, the weather was seasonal, and, from what he'd read on his travel guide as his naturalization was finalized, its soil was perfect for agriculture.

Theodore checked through his book bag, grin returning as he ran his fingers over the large wad of bills he had stuffed into his wallet. It was enough to purchase some land, hopefully with a small farmhouse attached, and that's all he needed to get started. Whatever he had left would hopefully be enough to survive on.

He had big plans, he couldn't let petty fears and anxieties get in his way. Not anymore, not when he was so close.
He knew how to make money in this country, and he knew he wouldn't have to do it forever. Just long enough to get his plans in motion.

He put his wallet away and looked back up, out the window, watching the foliage in the trees and pretty houses as they passed, wondering if any of the people he saw driving or walking were going the same way he was. He wondered if he'd cross any of their paths in the future.

He looked straight ahead, grinning once again.

He sure hoped so.