Hollow

“Yeah, it’s definitely a lot nicer like that...” Sol smiled softly.

"I mean, look at this." Jova swept an arm out toward the sky, which was slightly cloudier than it had been earlier. "So much to know, so much to imagine. It's literally endless."

"I've seen the edges," said Amoku, marching/trudging out of the place he was hiding in casually, as to not show that he was eavesdropping.

Sol yelped at the sudden intruder, quickly drawing his whip reflexively.

Jova whirled, rifle at the ready. "Who the devil are you?" he demanded.

"I suppose you two are looking for something," Amoku scratched his head and looked up at the sky.

Jova had been open to one person joining his little expedition, but a second seemed a little risky.
"We might be," he said warily, not lowering the gun. Too much was riding on this for him to risk losing the item. "Why? Who are you?"

Sol narrowed his eyes. “Why do you need to know..?”

"Nothing" Amoku raised his hands innocently. Then, he smiled thoughtfully, "I'm Amoku. Previously someone else. This place gets really dangerous at night, right? Just suggesting that you should be prepared."

"My good man." Jova's mustache twitched, and he drew himself up to his full height. "I have been preparing for this journey for the better part of the past six months. There is nothing I have not reviewed and taken into account."

"I'm not saying you weren't prepared for the marsh itself, but," said Amoku, but he couldn't help letting out a little smirk, "I just meant . . . are you sure you're prepared for the . . . inhabitants of this swamp?"

"I should certainly hope so," Jova scoffed, cocking his gun. "I've got a weapon, haven't I? The question is, my good chap, are you prepared?"

"What weapon?" asked Amoku, "If you're talking about that flimsy stick, then I sure hope you've got some protective gear."

Amoku smiled, "I am prepared. I do believe I am more prepared than you."

Amoku swept his hands out dramatically, showing that he was carrying virtually nothing except for some matchsticks.

Sol raised a brow. “...That’s all. Really? Only matchsticks?”

Amoku glared, "There is more to the art of defense than meets the eye. All infernos begin as a spark."