Wyatt slanted the trees a sidelong look, leery of their innocence. The distant call of some bird or another, drifting from between the trunks as if nothing had happened.

"An' when have we ever been that lucky?"

But when he looked back at Max, he was smiling against, flashing the man a wide smirk. "But a day in the sun--" he tilted his head back, the rays indeed pleasant after the dark canopy of the jungle, "--a stroll on the beach, can't say as I can argue with that."