Redhawk Caldera Damocles

It was much easier for him to slip into 'good soldier' mode as she responded.  He was very much used to making sure that he was polite and obedient when it came to war business -- not all his scars were from enemies.  As such, he wasn't going to interrupt and start talking until he was sure it was his turn.

Fighting for them.  It was mentally like a pup latching its teeth onto his ankle.  Or maybe a weasel.  Something with frighteningly sharp teeth but usually not deadly.  It remained there in the back of his mind as he smiled ever so slightly in return -- gallows humor, if anything.  He was still pretty grim, but he wasn't shifty like someone might be who was actively planning to abandon ship.  Yet, at least.  He was still fairly sure he'd be around for the battle unless something else happened to swing his opinion.  Quixote nodded, Yes, it's always been what I'm interested in.  Glad to have the opportunity here.  Well, aside from the fact that it's necessary in the first place.

She'd want to know what he'd been up to, though, wouldn't she?  After all, he'd been rather scarce since he'd been allowed to this side of the scent line.  I've been focusing on two things.  One being figuring out the best approaches to Blackfeather territory so we can have the greatest advantage with the least explaining tiny details to people since the date is sooner rather than later.  The other being a review of the land here in case they opt to show up on the borders here instead, or any survivors decide to retaliate, though some of the options aren't that great 'til the thaw.  It was a nice little cliffnotes version of what he'd been up to, though admittedly he hadn't gotten to do as much as he wanted on the latter -- partially because investigating caves potentially meant traipsing into people's dens and that seemed rather impolite.

The fact it was winter definitely did throw a wrench in things though -- you couldn't see what was beneath snow on unfamiliar ground, traces that you were there were obviously super visible unless you got a convenient snowstorm right after, also it was freaking cold.  It was not the ideal.  But at least they weren't marching into Russia or something, just a little ways across the valley.  It was also fortunate that wolves were limited in their choice of weaponry and ability to make boobytraps.

Though the thought of injuries brought a fact to mind something he'd have to inquire about -- how many medics were they bringing along?  How were they going to be able to drag anyone back who couldn't walk? More stuff for him to think through.  He was sure there was even more that he hadn't remembered yet.  He had a little bit more respect for the Skeleton Lords now.  Not a lot, but some.