<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#008000">The Brother watched as the women buried the chest, his skin rippling with the vibrations of each of their heartbeats, like a beat of drums all over his flesh. If he were to close his eyes, he'd still be able to "see" them, each of their positions and how they were standing in relation to himself for several miles radius. A hand resting on his hilt, he followed when Captain Scars turned and disappeared through the jungle, moving seamlessly into the depth of the forest. Walking along beside her he didn't look at her, but walked leisurely, completely at ease and yet tense. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said in a voice that sounded like sand filtering through a glass pipe, both deep and raspy. He wasn't in the least bit worried about interrupting her thoughts, no matter how troubling they were to her. "Making us vulnerable by staying in one place. And a celebration? <i>Tch! </i>Let's put a large sign somewhere as well and let everyone passing by several kilometers, on the sea, know we're having a party and partially defenseless." As usual he expressed disdain for Juliana's plans, even though secretly he agreed that they were reasonable. The crew needed a rest from the constant traveling and celebration of a conquest of goods was definitely in order. But at the same time he was cautious and wary, and never felt comfortable unless there was water under his feet and he was moving. Always, constantly moving.</span>