1: The cart has stopped at the mouth of a narrow valley between the rocky hill to rest Ikal’s feral horse Maximon. Ikal is checking the luggage rack of the cart where two large suitcases sit atop a large trunk, he is rustling through the bags. Jocelyn pokes her head out the window.

Jocelyn: Do be gentle with the bags, please! They’re very delicate!

Ikal: If you wanted the “gentle” route, you picked the wrong road, lady.

2: Ikal opens a canteen he had fished out of the back.

Ikal: I’d be much more accommodating if I weren’t kept in the dark ’bout my cargo.

Jocelyn (off-screen): The intimate details of my family heirlooms are not for public discussion.

3: Ikal approaches the front of the cart. The roadrunner is taking a swig from his canteen. The unhitched Maximon is still cropping at a small patch of weeds at the side of the trail.

Ikal: If these are such precious, intimate heirlooms, you maybe shoulda taken the safe way ’round the mountain.

Jocelyn: I am on a tight schedule, Mr Tinalto, and you are being paid quite well enough are you not?

Ikal: Never heard of heirlooms goin’ bad, but what do I know?

4: Jocelyn is leaning out the window again to peer suspiciously at the feral horse, Maximon.

Jocelyn: Does that thing always smell this bad?

Ikal: Hey, don’t you talk to Maximon that way. That horse’s saved my bacon more times’n any man.

5: Jocelyn recoils as the horse thrusts its head close and snorts.