Michael sets his firearm on his belt, and with a soft click it sticks to it. He crosses his arms slowly: "You talk like I even wanted to be here in the first place." He spoke, sounding rather annoyed. "Listen, it's like Snaga says, we are here because we have no choice in the matter. We have no intention of harming this forest, and all we want to do is get the fuck out of here... If you'll pardon the language." Michael continued, gesturing softly towards his damaged, crashed vehicle.<br/><br/>This is hardly the time or the place to start a fight, and Michael KNOWS it. If he can reason with the group then he has no need for bullets or blades, just his wits.