Your moral compass is broken and only points to south

Cabel laughed.

'Alright, good point, being a furry and being super smart are apparently what I'm getting out of this conversation as being potential keys to success on this island," he mused.

The conversation shifted to something that made Cabel think this could work out into a quid pro quo exchange. Caleb seemed worried about money, which was something Cabel was worried about. He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Do you have any previous job experience?" Cabel asked, glancing sideeyes from behind his glasses at the other boy. He said, "This island is insane dude. There are people here whose origin stories put spiderman and batman to shame. And they're hiring. Sometimes."

He shrugged and said, "But if you're looking for something part time, perhaps, and don't mind working some unusual hours I'm...looking for some help with some projects I'm working on."

"Hmmm," Cabel said. He picked up one of the snacks from the table--were these girlscout cookies?--and popped one into his mouth. He chewed on it while he thought about this.

No job experience didn't exactly mean a bad thing.

"I run a certain independent service, I guess we'll call it," he said. "Helping people get exactly what it is they're looking for."

This wasn't entirely a lie. Cabel had a knack for finding things that were disappearing or missing. He wasn't entirely sure he was ready to come out and tell the other boy just what it was that he did for his money.

"Mostly I ask people just to meet others when I'm in class to collect money from them," he said. "All you really need to be able to do is read a map and take an envelope or a box to someone once in a while. You get to keep like ten percent of whatever they pay for dropping it off. "