The Fog was light this particular evening in Far Harbor. The bottle lanterns glowed brightly and the alcohol flowed freely inside of The Last Plank. The usual crowd had just shuffled in for the night shift. The last person through the door was not one of the regulars. Her red trench coat stood out among the drab colors of the harbormans' waders and hats. Ignoring the obvious stares, she scanned the room as if she were on a mission.

"Hey," her shout addressed the room, "If you're done gawking. Where is Longfellow?" There were a few murmurs before Mitch spoke up,

"Over there." His head nodded towards a table hidden behind the wall. She hurried across the beer soaked wooden planks while disdaining whispers of 'Mainlanders' echoed across the barroom. As promised, Piper found a surly old man held up in chair, pouring a half-empty bottle of whiskey into a glass. Weary eyes met her as she took a seat opposite him. He addressed her in a gruff tone.

"Where's your sidekick at?" Piper took a moment to think of what he meant as she fiddled around in coat pockets,

"Oh, Blue? Ah, he's probably having fun playing Minuteman. Think Preston had something for him to look into." Longfellow responded with raised eyebrows, then fired off another question,

"And whadda you want with me?" his scratchy voice hid the curiousness in his question. Finally digging out the notebook she was looking for, Piper gave him her full attention,

"Working on a new story, a big, slice of life, piece. Give the Diamond City readers a view into a different part of the world." Longfellow leaned back in his chair, the backrest creaking with age.

"You came an awful long way just for that."

"It was either this or write a story about how great," Piper exaggerated that word, "the Dugout Inn is." she now leaned back in her own chair, mimicking Longfellow, "You know I'm glad the Institute is gone, but it makes finding worthy stories a little tougher." Old Longfellow leaned up and let out a quick chuckle,

"Don't rightly know if I've got any worthy stories. What are your readers interested in hearing?" he finished his statement with a sip of whiskey from his glass. Piper ran a finger under her chin in contemplation.

"What do you have? Surely the oldest resident of Far Harbor has seen a lot." She smiled lightly, Longfellow returned the grin,

"You looking for the oldest resident I recommend talking to Cassie Dalton, ya ornery cuss." Longfellow searched his brain for a story he'd want to be immortalized in print, "How about the time my father almost got eaten by gulpers when I was young?" Piper gave a disapproving look, "Or the time I fought a pack of wolves with just my hands? I had used my last rifle round about an hour prior…" Now Piper's look was one of unamused disbelief. Longfellow huffed before continuing, "Well, after that I learned to keep count of my bullets. There was one time I helped rebuild the docks here in town after a damned Crawler took'em out."

"Okay, we're getting closer. Any story where you overcame a loss…" she waved her hands as she thought on, "and then preserved to…" she gestured her hands at Longfellow. A memory raised across his mind that soured his face.

"That's a story I don't tell to most any folks." He took a much larger gulp from his glass, this time consuming it completely. As he poured another glass, Piper recced her presence from the table as she recognized a struck nerve when she saw it. Sitting down the bottle, Longfellow spoke again, "But there was a time after that, about 6 months," he took a sip from the fresh glass, "where I was out hunting and ended up being hunted by trappers." Piper leaned forward again and started searching around in the breast pocket of her coat for a pen.

"How did this happen?" she asked still searching for the pen.

"I had been pouring myself into hunting at the time, to distract me." He saw that Piper was still distractingly looking for a writing utensil, "It's stuck behind your ear." He motioned toward her right ear. With an embarrassed smile, Piper removed the pen and started jotting down Longfellow's story.