Alex wasn't too far from the tree where they kept their base camp, praying the rosary. He did that every day whenever a chance came up. Despite it being wet and mucky everywhere, he had found a semi-dry place to kneel. The knees of his pants were wet, but he didn't care.
Fingering the beads, he murmured, "Pater noster qui es in coelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum; adveniat regnum tuum, fiat voluntas tua, sicut in coelo et in terra," in Latin. He had always loved Latin Mass.