I watched young Mayan children as I sat in the tree. A month had passed since I came here, and I'd already filled up half of the book I was writing in about the Mayans. At first I thought it would be a great idea to stay here for the rest of my life, but then I realized something: If I could fly this far south, and find a group of people I never even knew about, then what was to say that there weren't other places out there that I could see? Places where I could learn the culture, some parts of the language, the mythology, the morality, the values, everything. I realized that when I first met their king. He had a slope like forehead, just like everyone else. All of them had crossed eyes. The way they looked at me, it became abundantly clear what they thought of me. I didn't need Rupac to tell me.
As I learned about their customs, I found them odd in some places. And they found us Vikings customs odd as well.
I put my book back in the satchel and got out of the tree and onto Toothless.
I was going to stay here for three more months, and then I would leave.
I would find a new society. A new culture.
At one point or another after this.
And it wouldn't be ready for me.