“It is my destiny,” he insisted.
“It is laziness,” they countered.
He shrugged and hoisted his belongings.
They wrung their hands and shook their heads and offered dire endings. Yet there was little they could do, short of straitjacketing. And they’d been down that road with others years ago and found it sorely lacking.
Settling down suffocated him. He was Nomad born. He could heed only that calling.