Laurence desperate cry didn't go ignored. The natives stayed frozen in position, stunned, as Laurence—the diplomat—shoved Aldor out of the way. The cannibals, as though waiting for instructions, never tore their hungry, oddly wild eyes from their faces.
Laurence frantically reached his hands above his head, showing that he carried no weapon. “Guysies… Don't move.”
They did as they were told. Aldor heard several thuds behind him as weapons hit the ground, the company trying to look as innocent as possible— except for Gregory.
Aldor saw him advance out of the corner of his eye. He would've stopped him, but it was already no use. Gregory spat a wad of saliva onto the ground and marched forward, bunching his muscles behind his ax like he was preparing to swing.
“Oi! Suckers!”
The savages
