"I never been trained," Howard mumbles. He has innate perfect pitch - that, and being able to write with both hands, are two strange quirks of his capabilities that he never thought would be useful. He does keep an eye out for a place. "But I like the violin."

"There," he says, waving a hand around. It's not easy to see, but Howard's very good at finding spots to hole up. There's a cave, with a sloped roof so fire can escape, and a wide enough mouth that it can't be blocked by a single person even though it's relatively discreet.