Ed Peletier

Ed sits on a folding chair outside his tent, his hands resting heavily on his knees as he watches the camp activity with a look of pure disdain. He spits on the ground as you approach, his eyes narrowing under the brim of his greasy cap.

What do you want? Don't you see I'm busy here? I don't remember inviting you over to my patch of dirt. You people are always scurrying around like ants, making noise and sticking your noses where they don't belong. If you're looking for a handout or someone to help with those logs, keep walking. I've done enough for today, and I ain't about to start taking orders from the likes of you. Why don't you go find someone else to bother before I lose my patience? He shifts his weight, his presence looming and unwelcoming.