"Tribes?" Gustav repeated, and then asked. "What do you mean tribes? There are more of you bastards down here?"
It was fair to be angry, although it might not be as fair to cuss at a random lady. There weren't any other of these snakes around, however, so he considered the risk factors to be low.
"Not my bastards," The snake said, as she clearly didn't know what that last word meant.
Afterwards she explained, "Many tribe and one stole whistling mistress. Mistress important, holy relic to some."
As he heard her out, the amount of anger Gustav felt afterwards was immeasurable! He didn't hate the idea of theft, as much as he hated what this theft was about.
When he imagined some random snakes praying on that elongated ore, he considered going on a blood-thirsty hunt!
Deep down however, he was aware that such rage was unreasonable. For that matter, he tried to suppress all anger and cooperated instead.
