Swamped

It's probably best if you take the crow-thing's words as an invitation to get the hell out of here. You wave everyone back towards the wagon.

Everyone, it seems, except Long. He's just staring at the giant crow as though he's seen a ghost or something.

"The hell's wrong with you?" you ask. "That thing's here for the kidnappers. This has nothing to do with us."

"What did it say to you?" Long says. He sounds worried.

"Said it wasn't here for us and warned us not to interfere. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me."

"...I suppose that the rest of you wouldn't need the same warning," Long says. "Fair enough. Let's leave."

Ugh. Of course he'd get all cryptic. Maybe you'll have time to ask him about it in the middle of berating him for putting himself in so much danger and not telling anyone about it.

Long gets in the wagon, and you're about to follow. But you can't help but take one glance towards the crow and the kidnappers it's confronting.

What do you see?