[ Probably easy enough to spot the white of Vasquez’s shirtsleeves, but the rest is shrouded in shadow. Works for him for now, but he’ll have to step into daylight eventually. Vasquez has been in worse situations and far more tense stand-offs, but that does little not to put him at high alert, not with a gun pointed his way, even in warning.

Still, he can’t help the incredulous snort that escapes him. ]

Your ranch? What is it you grow here? Mold?

[ He kicks at some of the rotted bits of corn, the toe of his boot scuffing the floor of the silo. There is a reason he chose to squat here, and really, can anyone blame him? The place is falling apart at the seams. Surely no one still lived here.

Or so he thought. ]

Needed the shelter for the night, that’s all. I am happy to move on if you are happy to let me out without shooting me, yes?