As welcoming as ever, Aldelros greeted Zemekis' nature-loving outburst with a withering scowl. They were approaching a potential threat after all... had the youth noticed their cautious approach to the treeline?

He shook his head and broke further into the underbrush only to be hit time and time again with wave after wave of the deep jungle humidity which rode on his person like mighty weights. He was much more accustomed to adventuring in cold, unforgiving forests not hot, steamy ones-- though this would not be his first time in such a place however the means were quite different back then. He had a guide then and a village to return to...

Through the trees and vines he could make out very little of those they had parted with, and each glimpse he got of them he could not be certain was more than a swinging cord of vegetation moved by the rare downdrafts through the canopy. As he crept further through the brush he strained to hear the water gurgle from it's small rapids. He had to keep on track and keep hidden. Survival depended on that.