"We've been searching for this formula for about a month," Rogan said solemly, giving a slight not to Captain Carson before barreling on. "It was made on earth. We tried to neutralize it before it left the planet, but we failed. We were at least able to trace it though. Lead us here."
G finally finished his last cup and put it down. "We received an anonymous tip to check the Mawashi stadium. That's where we ran into Defago-- mostly by accident. A twist of fate lead us into a VIP booth and... we were able to guess what he was."
"The AMS would consider Defago a threat on par with the missing formula. A creature that can create soil that resurrects anything that's buried in it, or create cannibals by touching them would make him a hazard even if he wasn't able to turn into that giant ice creature." He raised a finger.
"That said-- we've never heard of Defago before today. He's not in the AMS database. If he's gone this long without causing any trouble, then I'd be much more worried about stopping that formula than stopping him."
G nodded. "The best we can hope for is that we can extract some information from Defago after we meet him."

Rogan looked around wildly at the new location while G remained calm and resolute, and almost immediately said: "Yes, please. Dragonwell, if you have it."
"Uh, sure, that," Rogan said, wincing at the pain of whipping his neck around like he just did.
"Uh... where are we right now?"

Rogan blinked. "Is that so," he said, grinning. He cupped the reciever for a moment.
"G, we got a lead." The sharp features of G's face lit up. "That's fantastic!"
"You're telling me," Rogan said as he went back to the phone. "Uh... can we arrange a meet up, Mr. Stripetail? There's a lot we need to talk about."
There was a pause.
"And, uh, do you have any morphine on you by chance?"

Rogan raised an eyebrow as he looked over to G, who was nonchalantly looking around to see if they were being followed. "Yeah, this is Rogan," he said as he scratched his head. "I suppose I should start off by saying thanks for saving the two of our lives. We owe you one. But we'd also like to ask you a couple of questions regarding the Wendigo, if you please. We have something a of a crisis going on at the moment."

"Okay, enough already," Junior huffed. "You gonna tell us what a 'mobile suit' is already?" Usso touched his fingers together. "Uh... maybe later."
"Why the secrecy?" Diddy asked. Usso shrugged. "I just don't want to talk about it."
Junior rolled his eyes. "You're a worse tease than Diddy," he sulked, crossing his arms.
---

Defago delighted the Jones with his knowledge of the old voyageur songs. Even as he sang, though, he felt a bit uneasy. Intuition told him he wasn't as hidden right now as he thought he was.

----
"Ice? Could it have been an aberrant strain from 'The World'?" A female voice on the receiver said. Rogan blew a puff of smoke from the one cigar in his pocket that hadn't been ruined by all the blood.
"His vital signs weren't human, but they weren't reanimated. Besides, if the buyer had access to that much Type-β they wouldn't need any Type-0."
Rogan sat alone in what was supposed to be his intensive care unit, but he was more of a guy who liked to heal on the go. It was a nice place-- Mawashi had nice technology. Usually whenever he went into hospitals the patients and nurses were all trying to kill him, so maybe it was just the peace and quiet that struck him.
"Well if not that, what was it? The brass is worried, Rogan-- they don't know how they'd deal with an outbreak on another planet. If that thing is still out there, they’ll want to know what it is ASAP so they can send another batch of reinforcements.”
“I’m fairly certain I know what it was. Do you remember the Ludlow case, Kate?"
Kate Green erred on the other end of the line as Rogan twirled the ashes into cup he had been given to drink water from. He was hoping the smoke detectors weren't too sensitive-- he definitely wasn't allowed to be smoking here.
“No, I don't, and I know all the standard case files on record."
"Use your level 2 passcode." Rogan said. There was a pause on the other end, a few more clicks and keystrokes, and suddenly a little 'aha!"
"Oh! You were right! The 1983 Ludlow Pet Cemetary case... Spelled with an 'S' instead of a 'C' for some reason," Kate said, sounding a bit annoyed. "Multiple animal reanimations and at least three human reanimations-- locals claim a creature called a 'Wendigo' had caused it by haunting an old Indian burial ground nearby. AMS investigators at the scene were able to replicate the reincarnation with dead mice and immediately bought the land the cemetery was built on, but scientific investigation was unable to determine the exact cause of the resurrection, nor find any evidence of supernatural entities beyond occasional bouts of hysteria in the guards. Wow... Why isn't this case in the common archives?"
"Because it hasn't been closed yet," Rogan said as he casually checked his watch. G was taking way longer than usual. "Can you imagine what would happen if DBR heard about that place? Or Umbrella? They wouldn't need a formula or fancy equipment to create zombies. All they'd need is a shovel and a few 'amens', right?"
There was a hesitant silence on the other end of the line. Rogan took another drag, and savored it. It was nothing short of a miracle that the two people were on hand with the know-how to save their lives.
"So there’s an even greater danger to having that thing around… Do you think the buyer intended to use the formula on Mawashi?"
Rogan took a long drag on his cigaret as his eyes darted under his eye lids.
"... No. I've talked to G about this and we both agree-- it makes no sense to attack Mawashi. There's nothing here worth causing such a highly profile attack."
"You are POSITIVE about that?"
"Not positive enough not to alert the local government, but yeah. Pretty positive. Mawashi's just an inconspicuous place for the formula to change hands."
“And what about that Wendigu, or whatever its called? If he’s able to create reanimate soil, wouldn’t that make him just as dangerous as the formula?”
“If the buyer had known, it stands to reason he would have tried to capture him the moment he made his delivery. The fact that he was relaxing in a stadium tells me the buyer has no idea about Defago.”
“What if he does it on his own?”
“I’m confident he won’t.”
“Why?”
“He told me he wouldn’t. Either way, going after him would just waste time. I honestly doubt he wouldn't be able to give us some information, but neither of us are in any shape to take him by ourselves. The formula we can handle.”
“No, you can’t,” Kate said exasperatedly. “Don’t you remember what I told you? You are both on strict orders to stay in that hospital and cooperate with the Mawashis until the AMS team arrives!”
“Tell HQ that my traumatic head injury has tragically left me unable to understand orders for a few days.”
Rogan grinned as he heard a real, audible facepalm on the other end of the line.
“Rogan…” Kate groaned. “Please, listen to me. You don’t even know where to start looking!”
Rogan raised a finger up in the hospital room.
"Au contraire. We reviewed the security footage. There was a heavily bandaged man and what looked like a talking squirrel. I bet they know something.”
The tone of Kate’s response was pricelessly wretched. "A talkingów-what? I…” She sighed miserably. “Rogan, please reconsider staying in that hospital a bit longer--"
"My head's fine, Kate. You see funny things out here beyond earth. It just so happens the squirel left us a card-- me and G and are going to try to track them down the moment we're able to. If you want to help, start looking at common spaceport traffic destinations off of Mawashi in case the formula jumps ship."
G entered the room and shut the door behind him with eerily perfect quiet. One one shoulder he had their confiscated ammo and weapons bags slung over his shoulder, to which Rogan gave him a ëperfect’ sign with his hand.
“Hold on a sec, Kate.” And before she could protest Rogan cupped the phone and looked up to G.
“Any luck?”
“Afraid not. In fact they said they’re going to be sending armed guards to keep us in our rooms.”
Rogan swore out loud.
“Well, so much for asking nicely,” he grumbled as he flicked the stub of his spent cigar into the water glass. “I’m guessing you already thought up an escape route?”
“Of course,” G said with a smile as he began to thumb bullets into his relolver with unbelievable speed. “But we’ll have to leave soon.”
“Alright. Let me finish this up and then you can lead us out of here. Kate says hi, bye the way.”
“Hi Kate,” G said as Rogan held the phone up in G’s direction.
“Sorry, that was G. Apparently we’ll have to leave the hospital sooner than we thought. Any last words before I go?”
"Yes: both of you are insane." Rogan and G exchanged a knowing look.
"I'll see you later Kate. Now I have to use the last few minutes I have to call Sophie and tell her I'm still alive."
"Good! Maybe she can talk some sense into you!"
Rogan laughed. His wife, who had to have her right arm amputated at the shoulder to prevent contamination after Type-27 'The Chariot' slashed her with a bardiche, would definitely not approve of him refusing medical attention.
"Well, I suppose if anyone can, it's her.” Rogan said as G handed him his pistol. They had no intention of using them on security guards, but in both of the two's experience if an asset was on hand it was best to have it ready for use in a moments notice. “She and Lisa."

In a forested area just outside the city limits, a girl stared in horror at a man who had just come walking out of the woods.
The little girl looked terrified, but Defago had worked with this situation before. In many a day he’d lost his disguise and needed a quick replacement, and adults would never do. Even in his fully human form he looked like he was seconds away from death, and the ones that didn’t run away were too spooked to ever sell him anything. Buch children were differentóall you needed to do was tell them that you were fine and give them a smile, and they believed you.
Defago had found this young girl just outside the city, scrounging for food. He made sure to approach from a direction she could see him so as not to scare her too badly.
She was still pretty scared, though.”
“Ah! A friendly face!” the Quebecer said with a warm smile. “Sorry to bother you, but can I have a minute? My name’s Defago! What’s your name?”
The girl didn’t answer. “Y… Your face…”
Defago gave a sad, self-concious look. “Oh, this…” he laughed. “Sorry about that! I’m rehearsin’ for a play in a couple o’ days.”
“A play?” the girl asked.
“C'est vrai! I’m an actor!” he said with a grin. “A method actor, ter be exact! You know what that is?”
The girl shook her head. She was walking backwards a bit. Defago sat on the ground so he wouldn’t seem so tall.
“It’s when you go out and you try to play the role in real life. You know, fer practice! Kinda like the reverse of studyin’ in schoolóinstead a sittin’ indoors and learnin’ how to do somethin in the real world, you do somethin’ in the real world to learn how ta do somethin’ indoors. Neat, eh?”
He took out a canteen and drank it, turning away from the girl a little. That seemed to work. She seemed less scared of him when he was in an inconvenient position to attack her.
“So… is that make up your wearing, then?”  Defago nodded as he wiped his lips.
“Yep! Pretty good, eh?" the quebecer said as he opened his arms proudly. "I’m playin’ a zombie for my big performance. Never thought you’d see a zombie at stage play, huh? Only boring cos-toomes with big frills and fancy wigs.”
He did a sitting impression of a dandy walking about with his rear stuck out and his lips curled in like a turtle. The girl laughed. “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Defago agreed.  The pain in his feet was excrutiatingówithout any ice water to cool their burning need to travel, he had to settle with wrapping them in scraps.“But I have a problem.”
“A problem?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. Ya’see, I thought it would be a good idea to go out here n’ make up to better get into the role.” He lifted his hands. “Then I realizedóthis make up takes a long time to put on! A plumb long time! You wanna guess how long?”
The little girl put a thumb to her chin. “… Fifteen minutes?”
“Four hours.”
“No way!” the girl said in amazement. “Oh, it’s true,” Defago said gravely. “And I don’t want to have to wait another four hours to put it on again.” He looked to the town. “But at the same time, I know all the folks in the city’ll be ascared of me if they see me like this. If I cause a big panic, my career’ll be ruined!”
“Oh… I’m sorry,” the little girl said as she took a few steps closer. “You don’t look THAT scary. I’ve seen people on TV that looked scarier.”
“TV, you say?” Defago asked, sensing he only needed to press a little harder. “I used to act on TV… It was awful. An’ if I blow this next part, I’ll probably have to go back to doin’ commercials again.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” the little girl said. Defago laughed a little. Despite the clear state of poverty the little one was in, that hadn’t taken her lively childhood innocence.
“Oh, it was,” Defago insisted, turning around in his sit to face the girl. “You know… jus’ a few days ago I has this guy come runnin’ up to me, an he says to me “Haven't I seen you on TV?, and well I says to himóI’m flattered and allóand I says “Well, I do appear, on and off, you know. How do you like me?” An you know what the fella says?”
The girl shook her head.
“Off.” That got a churlish giggle out of her and Defago groaned. “It’s not funny!”
“It is a little,” the girl teased, to which Defago gave a conceding nod. “Well… maybe a little, but I’d rather not have to face all that again. I need to find a way to go into town without people seein’ my face or washin’ off my makeup.”
He tried not to look a the particularly well suited cloth rag she was holding, as he felt that would be too obvious. Thankfully, he didn’t need to. She jumped to the conclusion for him.
“Maybe you could wrap your face in this cloth? That’d work, right?”
“Oh, no no no,” Defago said. “I don’t accept hand outs from strangers. I’d have to pay you for it.”
“Pay?” the girl said, her eyes shining a little. She began to walk over to him, her hand outstretched with the rag she had been holding.
ëBITE HER,’ a deep, dark part of his mind commanded him. And for a moment he really did want to bite herósomething in him told him that if he did, all the horrible, never ending hunger would be satiated for a moment. But Defago was used to these moments.
ëOh, va te faire foutre, ya devil,’ he thought as he suppressed the urged, concentrating to keep his composure. He gladly took the cloth a smile. “Ah, well… since you’re bein’ so kind to me,” Defago said with a beaming smile.
“I should tell you somethin’. I’m not really a broke theater actoróI’mma rich theater actor. An’ you passed my test.”
The girl blinked. “What?”
Defago stood up, and produced a thick wad of cash from his pocket. The little girl’s jaw dropped. She had never seen so much money in her life.
“I don’t have much in my life to spend on,” Defago said, for once telling the truth. “For all the money I have, it don’t do much for me. That’s why I like to give it to people who I think deserve it. People need to be nicer to each other in the worldóI sure wish people were nicer to me when I was your age.” He took the rag from her and put the entirety of the money he got from smuggling the zombie-making formula into the little girl’s hand. The girl was speechless for a moment, and then her face came to life.
“Oh my god! Thanks mister Defago! I-… I don’t even know what to say!” Light dazzled from the girl’s eyes. It was a kind of face you couldn’t fakeóno movie actress had ever captured a look of joy so utterly complete as was on her face. That eased Defago’s guilt more than he felt he deserved.
“Ah, how about you surprise your momma with something nice when you get home, eh?” Defago said with a smile.
“Thank you so so much!” the girl said as she gave him a hug. He tried to control his body temperature so she wouldn’t notice how cold his skin felt. She didn’t seem to notice. “I-I can’t believe this is happening!”
“Hehe, neither can I,” he said cryptically. “Thank you so much for the cloth: I’ll be happy to wear it,” he said with a smile, and drapped the long cloth over his head, covering it. It wasn’t as much cover as the helmet, but it would do nicely. "Alright, alright," he said, as he tapped the girl to stop hugging him. "Now go on home. It's gonna be late soon and you're mamma and papa are gonna wanna be awake for what you have to tell them, yeah?"
"Yeah!" the girl cried, practically jumping up and down in happiness. She started to turn and run back to the city. "Thank you so much for this! You're like a dream come true!"
“Hey!” Defago called out as she was almost out of sight. “I never caught your name!”
“My name is Lucy! Lucy Jones!” the girl said as she turned around, still walking backwards from all the energy she got from knowing her family wouldn’t go hungry again for quite some time.
“If you’re ever in the city, my address is 4634 Sandlewood lane! I’ll never forget you for this, Defago!”
Defago smiled as he waved her away. He counted it as the easy high point in this whole dreadful affair .  Sighing, he headed into the city, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

This was the last timeóthe last timeóhe would ever take a job from that le salaud ever again. “If I ever get my hands on him, I’m gonna kill him,” Defago said through gritted teeth as he walked into the city, and as he said so la b’te maudite took some control and made his eyes glow yellow. He quickly batted it back, and pulled his coat tighter around him. He was getting some weird looks in the street, but no screams or sudden movements. That was good.

In all honesty, he only used the money he got for trinket nicetiesóbeer, vodka, wine, whiskey. None of it filled him, but thankfully it could still get him drunk. And it bought him new clothes, and occasionally a more leisurely, comfortable form of travel than the sheering howl of chasing the icy winds. But travel he mustóalways. Staying in any one place for too long made him burnóboth of him. Himself, Defago, and la b’te maudite. Smuggling was a natural way of getting some money and satiating his need to travelóbeing what he was, he could go to the most dangerous and secluded places without fear of death.
ëI shouldn’ta given ëim so much control back there,’ Defago cursed himself in his thoughts. ëI shouldn’ta. Those two boys er probably dead now… and that formula they were after…’
He honestly had only some memory of the fight with the two AMS agents. When he let la b’te maudite have considerable control, it was like being half unconscious, like a car crash victim who saw the world as a disconnected blur with brief flashes of terrible lucidity.
And yet he felt that he had toóthe steel in their eyes was no joke. They had seen things more terrible than the likes of him, he had no doubt about that. That line about that little Maine town spooked him badly. He had, in fact, not only personally seen that ol’ Micmac cemetery, but he knew exactly who cursed it, too. One of the worst of the worst among his kind…
The idea that he was even moderately tied to that dreadful place pushed him to make a bad decision. He gave la b’te maudite too much freedom in exchange for power, and that got both of those men killed.
He still had one of their bullets in his pocket. He had no idea why they interfered with his regeneration like they did, but they still weren’t enough to kill him. That burned man had bullets that did something similar, but they felt different. He didn't know if that third man was an AMS agent as well, but somehow he doubted it. There was an aura to that fellow that had made Defago uneasy even as he was sitting peacefully in the stadium stands. One full of fire and wrath.
But wether he was or wasn't, he did definetly kill two of their agents, and he truly believed what Rogan had said to him: that zombie-hunting organization won't let him slip away after this, particularly if they knew about Ludlow. He lived to see both World Wars, the cold wars, and even the spread of electricity, but he remembered the headlines of terrible creatures turning ol' Venice Italy to ruin on two separate occasions. Not just zombies-- other things. Things that looked they walked straight out of someone's nightmares.
“Formula Type-0, ëThe Magician’…” Strange name for a zombie making formula, but then again, what did he know about making zombies? It was the one thing he knew he could do that he never attempted. He had a monster inside himóthat didn’t make him a monster. He wasn’t gonna go stir up souls from their sleep.
Then, as he walked, he thought back to the man he had handed the suitcase full of vials off to. Like him, he had been heavily clothed. He honestly didn't know his name-- he just wordlessly gave him the money, took the suitcase, and ran off. It wasn't uncommon in his line of work.
But although he didn't get a look at him, he sure got a smell of him.
“I’m gonna find that man,” he said calmly as he walked down the busy streets. “And I’m gonna make him tell me what the hell he plans to do with that stuff.”
It wouldn’t bring those two men back to life… but it would maybe give him a smidgen of personal redemption to make sure that their fears never came true. Probably lose a lot of credit to his name as a smuggler to harass a client like that, but that was okay. There were other ways of making beer money at the end of the day.

But before anything else, he needed to get some ice water. Some ice water and some new metal boots.

Diddy informed Junior of the meet up point and the two arrived at the armory at the same time. Just before the two entered it looked like Junior had been talking excitedly to Diddy about something, but the moment he saw Deimos he shut up and suddenly looked grumpy.
“Oh. Hi there,” Junior said simply as he walked into the armory and looked around with a remarkably unimpressed pout, as if he were the world's worst fung sheui designer. “Not a bad ship. Not the best I've seen, of course. My dad's got a ship that's, like, five times as big as this and it's got super awesome state of the art navigation and all these thrusters--"
Diddy looked like he was dying trying to stop from laughing as he said this. In fact, the prince hadn't been able to stop salivating over how cool he thought this ship was since the two of them got on. He wondered how this must look to Deimos-- sure, a raptor in armor was a little strange, but how about a pint sized koopa strutting around like a spoiled peacock slinging a paintbrush over his shoulder as though it were some class-A hot shot weapon.
'Probably the same reaction I first had to Junior,' Diddy thought. 'He probably wants to sock him in his bratty little face.'
He supposed it would be wise to intervene before the prince went and got himself a well-deserved raptor mauling.
"Anyway!" Diddy suddenly cut in with a sudden smile. "Usso ran off somewhere, Mr. Deimos. I'm not sure where to. He'll probably be around in time for... whatever it is we're doing." He scratched his head and smiled disarmingly while Junior merely began wandering around the armory with an annoyed, bored look on his face. The kong found a box and sat down on it, and tried to make some light conversation.
"Where I come from everyone's always late for thing. It's just the laid back nature of the island life, you know? If you want anything done you better send out a call out an hour before you want them to arrive, because no one can be bothered from getting their pura vida disturbed. I grew up with it, so I don't really mind, but--"
"Mind?" Junior suddenly replied, looking at him from across the room with a grin of his own.
"Deimos, you happen to be looking at the reigning champion of missing appointments right here. Whenever we arrange for a date night, I have to account for the fact that Didds will have forgotten the time we were supposed to meet by two days."
The kong blushed a little, twiddling his thumbs. "Uh... Th-that's a bit of an exaggeration."
"Yeah, I know. Usually it's more," Junior said as he strolled back over to Diddy, grinning over at Deimos with a wink wink kind of look. "One day we were planning to go to a Yoshi race, and I knew that Diddy was going to get the date off by exactly one week. So I had to keep telling him a date that was a week early and he still was almost an hour late."
Diddy really couldn't do anything except give a basheful shrug and pull down his hat to hide how red his face was. "Hehehe. I still don't know how he always guesses how long my timing's going to be off."
Junior gave a proud smile. "Cause I think about things from your perspective a lot. And cause I talk to Dixie a lot about your habits. Ex-girlfriends never unlearn what they know about a guy."
His proud smile turned a bit more humble.
"And 'cause your cute, and I enjoy everything that goes on in your goody-two-shoes countryboy head. Scatterbrain and all."
Diddy's face really couldn't get any redder than it was right then, and though he normally didn't like getting romantic in front of other people-- particularly someone who'd had to put up with enough from the two of them as it were-- he was more than happy to let the koopa give him a quick peck on the cheek, not the least of which because he was blushing a tiny bit too, stubby reptilian tail a-waggle.
The moment was cut short by a sudden static sound from the device on the prince's wrist. Junior flipped the plastic cover off and stared at the screen. The radar had suddenly fizzed out.
“Uh…”
He flipped the setting to infrared. It wasn’t fizzing nearly as much, but it was still on the static. Junior hit the device. “What the hell? Interference?”

------

A plane flew into the ship's hanger, docking in a spot that was clearly meant for ships bigger than it. A helmeted figure jumped out while a strange ball-looking robot managed to chirp a few things before the cockpit closed again.
"Good luck! Good luck!"

"What? Nuh-huh-- we're going with you, Mrs. Swimmer," Junior said with a sneer. Diddy nodded. "Me too. What about you Us--"
Usso was already running out the door, heading down the street at full sprint.
"Hey!" Diddy shouted. "Are you seriously running away right now?... Wait..." He scratched his head. "I'm feeling a bit of deja vu..." The koopa shook his head. "Oh, forget Beatle-cut. You still have that ring? Go with them and give me a call-- I'll grab my car and brush and your pack from the hanger. Deal?"
"Right," Diddy said with a nod as he ran to catch up with the others.

"It's not neither logical or conspiracy to think that these two men aren't a position of good legal standing in all of this," Joshua said with a hint of darkness in his voice that didn't show on his face. "With so many vying factions in the galaxy, being a good Samaritan can easily become something to regret. I've seen it before. All it takes is a connection to a bad name to go from earning a medal to earning a place in a cell."
He tidied up the last of the wound without the need of Stripetail's solution. "That should do it," he said, and looked up as the security arrived.
"I am armed," Joshua said to the officer, as he stood away from the medical team "Just so you know, officers. I know that's not allowed in this stadium." He gestured to Stripetail.
"This squirel just saved those two's lives."
The officer didn't quite know what to make of the two. He was an older man with a world weary face. Joshua guessed, and would later be proven correct, that the man was a former cop or sheriff who'd taken up a security job to play out the last few years of his career in comparative peace.
"I'm not sure I heard that first part," he said as he folded his arms, eyeing the two as the two men were put on a stretcher.
"But I appreciate the help. Now, can either of you tell me what the hell just went on here?"

"Thank you! I've never heard of it before," Diddy said graciously as he accepted the cup of tea that was handed to him. "In the jungle the only tea we're able to get are strong mints, so a change of pace is nice."
He was taking a sip of the tea while Junior eyed the raptor irritably. "No. Why? Did you wanna be my minion or something?"
While still taking his sip Diddy kicked Junior's shin under the table. The koopa didn't yelp, but he merely folded his arms and stared at the raptor quietly, eyeing him up and down with a petulant little smirk.
"Ah!" Diddy breathed as he emerged from his sip. "It's sweet! Kind of like a clover tea!" He leaned in near the koopa and muttered to him.
"Easy. Don't pick a fight with someone you just met, brat."
"You're not the boss of me, knuckle dragger."
"I'm close enough-- and you know you're all the better for it."
Junior snorted a spun his head over to Usso, keeping his gaze away from both the raptor and the kong. His cheeks were puffed a bit. The kong merely rolled his eyes and gave Deino an apologetic look.
"Hmph, whatever. So what was that deal about, Ussop?"
"Usso," the boy said mildly, trying to acclimate to all the new faces and names he now had to know. He was never particularly social, before the war or during it. "And I'm going to be security on your guys' ship."
As he said 'your guys'' he looked at Mrs. Swimmer and then Deinos.
Diddy gave another 'ah' as he finished another sip.
"I think what Lizard Lips is asking is why Stripetail thinks you're high class enough that you're worth a million a month."
Diddy looked to the two dinosaurs. "And why did you two join? We're not entirely sure what Stripetail's crew is actually setting out to do..."

-----

"I see..." Joshua said cryptically, continuing to dress the bite mark. "I was a translator once. The Blackfoots would tell me all kinds of stories. Whenever there was a particularly harsh winter they told me of men who resorted to cannibalism to survive. They said that would curse them and turn them into Wendigos. The fact that they really exist doesn't suprise me as much as the fact that one managed to make it into this sports stadium, of all places."
He glanced at the broken window. "And it's not dead, is it? Perhaps we should tell the stadium security. I heard them say they'd like to continue with sumo tournament of the threat is resolved."
His piercing blue eyes turned back to Stripetail.
"I came to learn about some of the cultures that exist in the far reaches of space. We New Canaanites believe that for every planet there is a god watching his people-- a celestial father of millions. I feel to know the God of my world, I should observe the work of the gods of other worlds."
His eyes turned back to the men he was healing. "It's strange..."