He doesn’t like sand, @enginccringtoad . It’s coarse and rough and irritating. A lot like land mines. He doesn’t like them either...
Now, Fox McCloud is no engineer, but he likes to think he knows what a dying machine sounds like-- and when they open her up, all while the desert heat is belting down upon them, he can clearly see those insides aren't looking so hot either. But those are all easy guesses; call 'em educated.
What Fox does know, is an improvised explosive device when he sees one, buried in the sand and unearthed just a short distance away from where their rover gave out. It's less educated of him to just dust it off and pick it up, but the damage is already done now.
Whole area must be filled with 'em. Real guerrilla warfare-type stuff and a little too sophisticated to be the work of local bandits. This means they're on the right track. Or they were, at least.
Not on any track now; nothin' but open desert that stretches on for miles. What he also knows are their chances holding out in a place like this. He knows them quite well, in fact.
Can’t say he’s missed it.
After wiping sweat from his brow he starts scratching away at a prototype visor squeezing the back of his head like a vice, dangling the I.E.D by a stray wire as he saunters his way back to their ride where his best friend still stands, elbow-deep in machine guts.
"So, give it to me straight, doc." A well worn smile that pairs with a well practiced routine; as if he doesn't open up with that corny old line every other time Slippy's worked his magic to turn a wreckage back into his functioning ship.
