The soldiers moved in formation, their boots crunching over rubble and debris as they pushed further down the broken remains of Rue de Rivoli. Morrigan and Siobhàn stayed far enough back to avoid detection but close enough to catch fragments of their conversation when the wind carried it. Siobhàn was dragging her feet, though, not literally—but her frustration radiated off her like heat.
"This is taking forever," she whispered, her lips barely moving as they ducked behind a burned-out car.
"Shut it," Morrigan muttered, not even glancing at her. Her focus locked ahead, tracking every movement from the squad.
Siobhàn groaned, loud enough that Morrigan shot her a glare. "What?" she hissed in protest, throwing her hands in the air in an exaggerated show of innocence. "They're not going to hear me."
"Shut up anyway."
