Raccoon Toes looked around rapidly, swiveling his head from angle to angle, checking for any signs of the Shiny men. “Look back.” The taller of the two dark skinned males carrying me what looked like a dilapidated campsite. Seeing as the peoples of this area speak Spanish, Del Rino felt he could try to communicate with words one he regained the strength to do so.

After Narvaez’s cursed trip, anything was better then travel again, even death. In fact, at this moment Rino welcomed death, if it should rear its fury head and come towards him, he’d embrace it. After finishing that thought, Rino heard the more florally dressed man speak something hastily to his colleague, then turn back to Rino, with a much more intense gaze.

For most of the trip before he’d regained the ability to open his eyes, he’d listened to the sounds of the native language the men that carried him had been using. “Too many click sounds.” He’d found himself thing one what he guessed to be the fifteenth day on the long journey. With all of the strength he could muster at that time, he’d tried to ask the natives a question, but to no avail, his voice was lost.