[ Vasquez glances over at Faraday, unsmiling, though there's something soft in his expression, despite the horrible tale he's shared. ]

I don't know if their gods are real or what made me like this. They say that sometimes, when they sacrifice to their trickster, he curses the world with a caminante de sangre.

A prank, maybe.

[ He straightens up, shrugging out of his vest. He lays it on his saddlebag before he reaches for the buttons on his shirt. Vasquez undoes the top few, pulling open the fabric to reveal the nasty, jagged scar down the middle of his chest. ]

They also say it's because he eats the hearts, because they bleed the bodies first, and that's why the caminante need to drink the blood of others.

[ Vasquez's hands fall from his shirt, resting instead on his knees. ]

I don't know what is truth or legend, but... [ He lifts a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. ] Centuries later, I am still here.