With times comes knowledge. The Wanderers have scoured the natives voids since our paths intertwined with the Great Creators' heritage again. Pride. The young and petulant are weary of their continued exposure to unwitting and unwanted darklings that traverse where we tread. There must be a sanctuary, a refugium, a nursery to sustain and act as pillar of our advance. Pity. With our senses extending, suitable stellar bodies have proven to be fewer than the Advisors anticipated. Most were pried upon by that which is unwanted, others are close to them. Joy. The Orange Children still seem favourable towards us and the Advisors believe this to be exploitable.
It stands to reason that there may be gain in cooperating with those who toil in the orange plains left by the Great Creators, yet they will harbor desires in return. Hesitance. If the path is taken, there might be no recourse — one in solitude, one less so. Ponderous. Perhaps none of those? The Advisors are entreated to arbitrate the course of action and predict the most advantageous outcome for the whole.