Each of its knuckles landed on the ground with titanic tremors that briefly caused both of the men's feet to lift from the ground; its hands were thicker than redwood trees, large enough to grasp elephants.
"Emilio," Everett whispered.
"Shh…" Emilio responded, not breaking eye contact with the colossal primate above, "…Don't speak."
The nostrils of the grand beast flared as it exhaled, bringing a mighty gust of wind that rustled the Dragonheart's cloak.
"Spare them, Musafala!"
—A voice that didn't belong to either of the men shouted at, seeming to be yelled directly at the colossus.
It was then that a figure became obvious in the near distance, standing on a hill between trees: a man with a scruffy, red beard, dressed in shoddy, leather armor.
'Another person? Who is he?' Emilio thought.
Whoever the stranger was, it seemed that the mountainous gorilla held some respect for his words as it pulled away, exhaling once more with a tree-rustling breeze before walking off.
Each of its steps, growing more distant, still rumbled the land.
Everett let out a breath of relief, gasping out, "We're saved!"
"Yeah…" Emilio looked over at the stranger on the hill, "Thanks for the assist, but who are you?"
As the stranger jumped over, clearing a dozen meters with a single leap, two things were made clear—the man was quite capable, and also, looked as though he hadn't bathed in months.
The black-and-brown leather gear the man wore was scratched up, full of holes, and covered in dirt, blood, and grime.
In addition to the adventuring gear the man wore, he seemed to have a few teeth replaced with golden ones.
There was definitely a stench of "nature" given off from the man, who arrived with a smile as he scratched his beard.
"The name's Maverick Jones, good to meetcha!" The man introduced himself, "—Well, it's good to meet anybody, actually! Ha-ha…ha…"
The exasperated laugh the strange man let out was a bit sorry as he just looked relieved to see other people. It was clear in the hopeful, but worn eyes of the man, whose irises looked like olives, that he was more happy to see them than they were of him.
"…You are both real, right? I'm not totally imagining you two as part of my own imagination, right?" Maverick asked nervously.
"Pretty sure we're real," Emilio responded sarcastically.
A sigh of relief left the strange man's lips, "...Thank heavens! I thought I was seeing people again! Good timing–my best friend I'd been here with for the past few months vanished this morning. Turns out, I had been imagining him the whole time! Ha-ha, ha…ha…"
A worried look wore itself on Emilio's face, "So…how long have you been on this island? Not to sound rude, but it sounds like you've been through the ringer here."
"You can say that," Maverick told him, "Before we talk–follow me, I'll take you to my camp. If we stick around here too long, we'll be hunted."
"Hunted?" Everett repeated.
"Just come on, or…don't. I mean, you don't have to," Maverick offered, beginning to walk towards the west as he parted some foliage.
A look between Emilio and Everett had them decide whether or not to follow the suspicious stranger, though they decided to follow along for the time being.
'I want to find the others as soon as possible, but I think this might be the right call for that. If this guy knows the island, he can help us find them,' he thought.
The path to the camp of the strange man was an unorthodox one; past a train between trees and dense foliage, Emilio watched as the red-bearded figure swiftly leapt over the gap of a ravine.
"Watch your step!" Maverick warned, landing on the other side.
Something about the way the man carried himself struck Emilio as odd; the leap he had made was enormous, just like when he witnessed him jump from the hill earlier–there was no magical reinforcement that could be sensed.
'It's his body that's this strong–no tricks or magic to it,' Emilio thought.
Following behind, Emilio leapt over the gap as well, passing by what could be a one-hundred meter fall into the ravine of rocks and minerals.
"Err…" Everett stood near the edge of the gap nervously.
"My bad–here," Emilio said, tapping his foot against the ground.
The subtle gesture invoked the element of nature, creating a bridge of stone that connected both sides of the ravine for the shielder.
"Many thanks!" Everett cheerfully said, crossing over.
Maverick watched the act of magic be performed, "Huh, magic without an incantation? That's pretty rare. Makes sense why you'd be here, then."
"What do you mean?" Emilio asked.
"Oh, nothing," Maverick said, brushing the question aside as he continued on, "My camp is close by. I've got enough lunch for both of you, too."
Though Emilio had his own suspicions about the odd man, he felt there wasn't enough to justify rejecting his hospitality, instead opting to follow along to get any information he could about the dangerous island.
The camp claimed by Maverick was huddled up inside a cave, hidden behind a barrier of leaves.
"Argh–what's that smell?!" Everett complained as he passed through the leaves, gagging as he covered his nose.
Maverick laughed, patting one of the leaves to show the orange, sticky substance that was lathering all of the leaves, "Ha-ha! It's "Dead Man's Jo", I call it. A type of flower on this island secretes it to throw off predators with the rancid smell. That makes it perfect for warding off unwelcome guests from my camp."
"Smart thinking," Emilio remarked.
Knowing the reason for the use of the secretion that smelled like an unholy combination of rotting carcasses and feces didn't make it any lovelier, especially for Everett's all-too-strong sense of smell.
As the two followed the strange inhibitor of the island into the cave, it was surprisingly "home-ly", having chairs made out of intertwined straw, a bed of the same material, and some furniture that was, nicely put, imperfectly made out of hand-chopped wood.
"This is my kingly abode! Nice, isn't it?" Maverick asked with a proud smile.
Emilio nodded wryly, looking around, "Err…Yeah."
Placing himself down on one of the seats, Maverick lifted a bowl made out of leaves that was filled with wriggling larvae.
"Hey, whaddya got that f–" Everett began to ask.
The question was answered as the man shoveled a few of the grub straight into his mouth, chewing with juicy crunches that made both of the newcomers to the island wince in disgust.
"Eugh…" Emilio breathed out, trying not to get sick from the sight.
Maverick looked over at him, offering the bowl of insects, "Want some? Good protein."
"No thanks…not hungry," Emilio declined.
"Me neither," Everett nodded.
"Suit yourself–more for me," Maverick shrugged, happily continuing his feast that seemed gourmet to him.
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