"Movies and science!" Howard snaps at Sherlock, face screwing up into a flash of actual upset. He remembers getting 'deduced' clear as day, and his loathing for Sherlock stays only beneath the surface. He takes a deep breath and shrugs his shoulders to calm down. His eyes lift to the trees, then down to John's leg, then back to the trees.

"I been staying up in the trees. They don't climb, at least not as high as I been staying." But since that's not going to be an option for John, he racks his brain to think of something else. Location. "Their territory is east, I'm pretty sure. I ran into way more tracks and kills there. And they avoid low territory and the caves and all those places that flood, so I'm betting they can't swim."

He pauses. "Don't try scavenging from them, either. Whatever's in the plants here is in the meat, too. The Gamemakers are starving us out."

He swallows and a panicked shudder runs down his left arm, probably invisible to anyone but John.