You approach the natives cautiously, feeling nervous as all their eyes seem to lock onto you. They don't say a word. Just silently sitting across the road as the nearby protestors scream obscenities unfit to ever be spoken.
As you get nearer, you see that the natives have a series of paintings lying around. The canvases are here and there, without any sense of order. None of them are framed.
One scrap seems to show a creation myth, a city emerging out of a black hole in the ground, as screaming spirits flee in all directions.
Another depicts the first settlers, and the crimes they committed. The theft of the children is particularly disturbing.
Leave them be.