“Pan-jee-uh,” Pangaea corrected Mr. Threehorn. He shrugged sheepishly. “I know...awful name. I, uh...kind of chose it myself. I’ve never been good at coming up with names.”
He turned momentarily to Rick, whose sudden appearance had startled him somewhat.
“Just to clarify, I didn’t say being blind would stop Red Claw. I just said he wouldn’t be as dangerous. He can still find us as easily as ever, but in close combat, he’s at a disadvantage. He might be able to smell where his opponents are, but it won’t be so easy for him to anticipate a tail or a foot coming at him. As long as we keep a lookout for him and his thugs, we should be okay.”
“You’ll have to excuse me,” he told Rick quietly, “I’m having a sort of philosophical debate with Mr. Threehorn right now, so...forgive me if I appear to be ignoring you.”
“Anyway,” he said to Mr. Threehorn, “what I’m suggesting is that you try to look at things from the perspectives of those you’re fighting against. For example, what if, when you had arrived at the Great Valley, someone was already here who didn’t want to let YOU in?”