"Or maybe he likes you," the former guard poked fun at that, almost forgetting what had him so distraught. "What death was that? The squirt guns?"

He rubbed his face, to will away any emotion that wasn't the mask and settled against the tree, "At least we'll eat good for the next two days if those hellbirds are any help" He tilted at their two dead geese with hope for a fire or something to cook them. Part of him wanted to ask if Sandy had kept the gin she'd promised when they ran into each other earlier in the week. But something about the atmosphere started to change, and it wasn't just the incoming sponsor gifts that rained all over the Arena.

"Know anywhere safe?"