[Wash considers and discards a thousand different responses to that. In the end, he settles for sighing out, glancing in the direction of the island's east, and sliding his helmet back over his head with the quiet hiss of its resealing latches.]

[In the end, he's not really in a position to rip into anyone for considering themself to be acceptable collateral.]

[It's a mentality he's entirely too familiar with.]

We should get moving. We don't want to get caught out here in case more of those things come back, and I'd rather not spend any more time on the other side of Monsun than I have to.