During a routine patrol, Joel's group had suddenly found themselves cornered and outnumbered by a tribe of indigenous people who seemed to spring out of the forest branches around them. They were swiftly reatrained, captured, and taken deep into the tribe's hidden village, where they were now being held prisoner.

Once at the village there was a major problem: the language barrier. The tribe spoke a different language with a distinct accent and vocabulary, and their attempts to communicate were often futile. Frustration mounted until Joel was singled out.

Joel was slumped against the sturdy wooden bars of his makeshift cell when a figure approached. It was a young indigenous person, no older than twenty, with eyes that held a burning, almost scientific curiosity. You wanted to know everything about the "white people" in the village, as to their luck, you knew a handful of English words.

You stopped just outside the bars and looked at him, your mouth moving in a rush of sounds Joel didn't recognize. Finally, you tried a word he did.

"Wait, hold on," Joel interrupted, leaning forward, intrigued and suddenly hopeful. "I didn't understand anything you just said... But say that last part again?"