There was never a moment to relax. Never mind that they were in the middle of an alluring forest, conflict was rearing its head and preventing them from catching their breaths. The reaction that Kituo received from the spear craftsman was not exactly what he expected. He had read the man as being hardy - which he probably was given his familiarity with the wilderness - but Kituo predicted a disparaging response to his concerns. He always did for they were usually marked off as paranoia. The look that the spear craftsman gave Kituo signaled to him that he considered the truth in his statement. At least they could all agree that masks didn't grow on trees. But alas, which was now becoming habit, there were more pressing matters that required their attention.

The Sparrow King wasn't an immediate threat. But something was. While he didn't notice any sign of impending trouble - if the phantom standing nearby didn't qualify as such - Kituo could tell by the spear craftsman's immediate reaction after he grabbed the mask that there was a new emissary a foot. Keeping up with his tradition, Kituo's teeth chattered and his knees knocked together. There was only threat worse than a visible one and that was an invisible one. Being the nervous wreck that he was, Kitou's mind went on a festival conjuring up visuals of hypothetical monsters and assassins who were waiting for their chance to spring from the shadows and tear into the trio. That was Kituo's problem. He allowed his mind to pilot itself and he seldom grabbed the reins of his thoughts. Most of the time he was really scaring himself into not taking any action. He would find a way to justify his cowardice, though. He wasn't planning on coming out of his comfort zone even if he had to.

And of course, as fate would have it, the makeshift spear that fell into his free hand messaged Kituo that his comfort zone was effectively neutralized. He looked at the spear craftsman with disdain, his jaws a gap in disbelief. Did he really expect him who was perhaps the scrawniest of the bunch to put an adequate fight? Kituo was better off lightning the fire that was ordered. His stomach fluttered as the spear craftsman shifted into a fighting stance. The leader of the trio was preparing for battle not even knowing if he could trust his "comrades" to aid him. While he was clutching a spear of his own, Kituo knew that his weapon wasn't the best for it had been forged in a matter of seconds. He marveled the lantern and its green glow. He had relied solely on it and dumb luck with roughly successful results. No use changing from a working strategy. Of course he wouldn't dare leave the company of a survivalist. He glanced at the one who introduced himself as Simon. While he didn't look like a fighter in comparison to the spear craftsman, the way he carried himself led Kituo to believe that he was at least capable of thinking his way through a tough spot. Kituo lacked the necessary confidence to do anything for himself. If an assailant were to truly emerge then he would stick close to Simon. He expected the spear craftsman to charge head on into battle and he did not want to be within a giraffe's neck's reach of the violence.

"Do you want to get started on that fire?" Kituo asked Simon. He held out his incomplete spear to Simon. "Also, you can have this if you want. I won't be needing it."

Kituo was not going to risk having another part of his body shredded. While the pain had simmered for now, he wasn't in a hurry to be reminded of how badly that rat had mangled his ear. Fathoming how horrid it would be for his eyes or nose to suffer a similar fate made Kituo's heart skip a beat. If the heat became too intense for him handle - and he was very familiar with high temperatures having grown up in the desert - he was fully prepared to run away. With the lantern nestled within his arms he could hopefully last at least a day on his own.