The bandaged figure glances up and nods, though he pauses less than a second in his attention to the weapon at hand. "We should have given you a better welcome on your first visit to Zion," he says, "but from what I hear the White Legs beat us to it. White Legs seem to be the only visitor we have these days, although I'd heard rumors a few people from the Mojave might have come looking for us."

He checks the gun over and sets it aside, then picks up another weapon to begin working with.

"I don't suppose you encountered a courier in your travels?"