I wasn’t the type to ignorantly judge someone before first sharing words with him/her; but it had become understandably hard of late to maintain patience and understanding. Especially with the threat of Basin invaders constantly nipping at our heels. Yar, people were becoming demandingly difficult to trust. I’d expected Africa to answer my questions honestly, even if it meant my judgment would land us into a disagreement—and there certainly would be a disagreement if there was even an inkling that this fellow couldn’t be trusted.

“Can the infection be mended?” I ask quietly when she demonstrated knowledge of the affliction her ‘friend’ carried. As we walk toward the foamy surf, my mind slips back to a certain painted lass; Onni had often said that she wasn’t capable of fixing inflections that involved the mind and heart. If this virus had struck him beyond repair…that in itself would be enough to warrant damnation. A decision that might test Africa’s loyalty, and my courage.

We heaved over the sandy dune just in time to catch our visitor cough out what appeared to be a mouthful of seawater. My lips remained tightly drawn in their calm, impassive line as I observed Africa’s Basin friend from a privileged distance. He either very desperate for water, or not so bright—as perhaps brought about by fault of said warring illness.

At first glance the boy certainly appeared travel weary, dark coat and long legs are drenched in a not so thin layer of muck from the woods and sand from our desert. Our company stepped from the ocean to meet our approach, I paused halfway scenting the air and simply observing during these few crucial moments. The beginnings of a smile creased my face, though anyone would had been around me could have known the difference between a beam of business, and one of genuine delight. Yar, Africa would likely know which feature would present itself.

“Midas,” I replied shortly, without frilly title. For a moment there was a lapse of silence, I took that time to quietly linger in those dark orbs; purposely searching for something that might prove threatening--issue an instant decision. Subtly my gaze shifts unimpressively ever so slightly to the oracle who had brought this creature into our home. In that same instant they snap back to the horned visitor, “Africa tells me that ye desires to stay?” A small smile and polite vocals mask any sort of inner conflict that might be residing from within—as far as anyone knew, this was just another routine joining.