"Someone who's soft. A dipshit," Howard says bluntly. He finds a more comfortable position in the fork of a bough and chews the corner of his tongue. His oral fixation tends to get worse when he's hungry, although he rarely actually catches he's doing it until the inside of his mouth is sore and swollen.

He's not used to this humidity. It's not as if he can't tolerate it, but it's making his breathing shallow. He pauses as he sees something from this vantage point that Guy might not catch. Something moving through the tall grass a few hundred yards away.

He almost doesn't say anything.

"You might want to find high ground."

Looking around, another rustle of grass reveals another raptor, even closer. Howard starts to get higher, hoping he's right that these bastards can't climb.