Feather trudged through the forests, grimacing as his fine Italian leather boots got wild muck all over them. The two soldiers leading him by implied gunpoint basically speed-walked their way into the forestlands, giving no time for poor old Feather to catch his breath.
Figures. The soldiers did not want to keep Nico waiting. Even if Feather was a capo, the soldiers only respected him. They feared Nico, and fear held a clutch over a man's heart far tighter than respect did most times.
"How long are we gonna walk? We're way past perimeter - there might be variants out right behind that tree trunk you're walking past," said Feather, pausing for a moment to rest.
