[h3][b][u][color=f26522]Ryder[/color][/u][/b][/h3]

Before Ryder could even talk or complain, the ill spoken driver darted off leaving him just sitting there jaw hanging, wide eyed and scratching his head. Confused and in shock he stammered together some sounds as he looked around at the others but fumbled and failed to find or utter a single word.

But if there was one thing Ryder could do better than construct a sentence, (well actually there was a lot of things.) it was act. Seeing a familiar confusion on the faces of the others in the wagon Ryder realised that his only hope of answers was disappearing and fast. Without thought or warning his body began acting without command. He leapt out of the wagon and darted after the short man.

[b]"Turn the wagon around! And get that [i]thing[/i] ready to go!"[/b] He yelled back to the strangers whom he left behind. Not knowing if they heard him or even knew how to steer an ewe. As he pumped his legs running after the sword wielding mad man as fast as he could, Ryder felt a nostalgic comfort as his emotions rolled over. Confusion became frustration, frustration to aggitation, and aggitation to anger. Now this was something he knew, this was something he was comfortable with. This revelation coupled with the adrenalin of surging into the unknown caused a wicked sadistic grin to creep across his delighted face. 
He had a purpose, he had a goal. To bring that old man back to the wagon and get some answers out of him.