The man laughs. 'I gotta say something to get you out of there.' He grins. 'Let's head on home, lads! It's chow time!' The group begins on the way back towards the small oasis the tribe has been staying at lately, a refreshing spring in the middle of the harsh, unforgiving desert, conveniently close to the ruins you've been exploring. The tents are pitched in the wind-shadow of the trees surrounding the oasis, and the smell of camel steaks is rich in the air, fat crackling on the cooking fires as those who stay at home prepare a meal. The people greet the digging party as you return, though as usual, most of them politely ignore Saffron. It's tough being unusual in this sort of tribe, and she's always been a target of jokes. Which very conveniently explains the explosive rage she sometimes has.<br/><br/>There is, however, one person who's waiting to greet Saffron.