Leaks isn't amongst the most willing volunteers for this mission — but he is here, nonetheless. For someone who's clad head to toe in body-tight leather, he looks surprisingly comfortable traipsing with the rest of them through the humid jungle thicket on their way to their position, his ears flicking under his hood, alert to his surroundings.
A lesson in teamwork, is what he'd been told, and the thought still makes him huff contemptuously through his nose. If he had all his magic back, things would be different, but... here he is, preparing to take his anger out on the only thing that he can without recourse, and forced through this tiresome ritual of obeying orders to do it.
Of all the things about this situation that rankle him, there may be nothing more oppressive than the presence of so many other bodies around him, all these hierarchies, the expectation of obedience, the obligation of others. It's unfamiliar and unpleasant, and the sheer density of life at the Camp is as overwhelming as the most bustling city from his home. Here, surrounded by a small collection of fighters, is only slightly better.
This particular assignment happens to be coordinated by this... Sarah Alder. A Two Canes, by the look of it, and curiously in possession of two names. She had carried herself with great authority while she gave out their instructions, and now she walks a little ahead, though it seems like she's often checking back as they make their way towards the ambush point.
Leaks looks steadily at her, his mouth set in a thin line.
He isn't incurious about her, or about the situation that leads her to coordinate the rest of these strangers so matter-of-factly... but at least for now, he doesn't really allow himself to show it. His pride won't let him be seen to care.
But he does draw up next to her, muttering under his breath.
"... Aren't you over-cautious, bringing this many of us to do what one effective cat — person — could."
Can't quite get used to saying 'person', just yet.
Phase II-III, en route to the ambush point!
A lesson in teamwork, is what he'd been told, and the thought still makes him huff contemptuously through his nose. If he had all his magic back, things would be different, but... here he is, preparing to take his anger out on the only thing that he can without recourse, and forced through this tiresome ritual of obeying orders to do it.
Of all the things about this situation that rankle him, there may be nothing more oppressive than the presence of so many other bodies around him, all these hierarchies, the expectation of obedience, the obligation of others. It's unfamiliar and unpleasant, and the sheer density of life at the Camp is as overwhelming as the most bustling city from his home. Here, surrounded by a small collection of fighters, is only slightly better.
This particular assignment happens to be coordinated by this... Sarah Alder. A Two Canes, by the look of it, and curiously in possession of two names. She had carried herself with great authority while she gave out their instructions, and now she walks a little ahead, though it seems like she's often checking back as they make their way towards the ambush point.
Leaks looks steadily at her, his mouth set in a thin line.
He isn't incurious about her, or about the situation that leads her to coordinate the rest of these strangers so matter-of-factly... but at least for now, he doesn't really allow himself to show it. His pride won't let him be seen to care.
But he does draw up next to her, muttering under his breath.
"... Aren't you over-cautious, bringing this many of us to do what one effective cat — person — could."
Can't quite get used to saying 'person', just yet.