"Back on the reservation, I was in training to be a shaman. It wasn't exactly by choice; my mentor, Nazé, was a good man, but shortsighted, and a little backward. He saw the way I could put machines together out of anything that was handy, and assumed I had some sort of innate magical talent."
The memories wash over him along with the water, and he chuckles.
"You have to understand, this guy was as traditional as they come...I don't think he even knew what DNA was, much less understood the concept of genetic mutation. Of course, I stuck with it...out of curiosity, as much as to humor Nazé. But I hardly ever use it...the stuff works, don't get me wrong, but I don't see why I should dress in a loincloth and paint my face funny colors when I can build a device that can do pretty much anything I could do with a spell or ritual."