Who| Shepard, Garrus Vakarian, and anyone who wants some CR with the aforementioned
What| Trying to keep your feet dry by taking a walk in the rain
Where| Sort of south-eastish quarter of the island
When| During the second week of the arena, vaguely
Warnings/Notes| Shepard's mouth, likely violence. It's a Hunger Games jamjar.
If it was anything at all, it was familiar. The jungle— the
rainforest lived on a set schedule, same as any forest, but accelerated by the heat and humidity to a daily cycle. Foggy before dawn, a perfect time to be killed, clearing by mid-morning as the plants drank in the water, as the sun burned off what lay exposed.
( But all the same, it was familiar. The N1 training in Rio had been like this. Nostalgia had dulled the experience's blade, but this was bringing it all back. What a joy human memory was! )