As the uneven terrain stretched out before them, Spencer paused and swung around to face the folks lined up, a motley crew looking to him for guidance. He swept a calloused hand over his stubbled jaw and locked eyes with each person.

"Alright, listen up," he gruffed, his voice as rugged as the landscape. "Keep it tight and keep it quiet. We ain't alone out here, and I ain't just talking about the critters." He thumbed back his hat, revealing a brow furrowed with the seriousness of their situation. "This place? It'll chew you up if you let it. Don't."

He let his gaze linger a moment longer, making sure his words sank in deep. "Trouble's got a way of sneaking up on you out here, but stick with me, and we'll get through it. Just do as I say when I say it." There was no mistaking the grizzled determination in his voice.

"Remember, I'm the one with the map and the gun. You follow my lead, we'll make it out the other side. Let's move." With a nod, he turned back to the path, setting a pace that said he was no stranger to danger—and he was the man to see them through it.