Like the rest of what remains of his people, Jack is nomadic by nature and reluctant to stay in any given place for too long a time. He travels by virtue of a custom made vardo he designed and built himself, just barely large enough for him to lie and sit in, drawn by six horses. It’s a slow way to travel, sometimes mind-numbingly so, but it’s low key and often gives him to travel by road or country that’s otherwise been long-forgotten. The time travelling from place to place also allows him the opportunity to create and perfect his one source of income. He’s a skilled artist and wood carver with an over-active imagination and anything he designs he hopes to sell as trinkets and bespoke pieces of art to unwitting humans. He doesn't deal with them directly, of course – too many questions by half – but instead works with a select series of middle men, human contacts with whom he feels comfortable dealing with directly. It’s how Jack prefers to do business, by being careful as possible, because he can only imagine too easily how quickly he could make money if he allowed himself to be made into some kind of spectacle.
His wagon, though cramped and almost painfully slow at times, burdened as it is by both him and his few belongings, is beautifully decorated. The roof of the interior is one unbroken mural, meticulously carved and stained a deep cherry red, warm and homely. For company, Jack keeps a dog. Or the dog keeps him, he’s not entirely sure. A collie mutt he happened upon on the road and made the mistake of feeding has followed him ever since, serving as his only constant companion and confidante. Jack, for reasons he’s reluctant to explain, named her Bridget. If nothing else, she at least gives him something to talk to.