Sun Mote Copse Southern motherfuckin' Democratic-Republicans!

Fig grinned at her question. "Neither," he said between huffs, "Just worn out. I might be out of shape." He chuckled a little at himself, though he didn't really believe it. He was aware that he was a tall an lanky figure, but he was confident that there was some muscle under there. Sure, he could use a bit more, but who couldn't? He needed a lot more.

He could see the anxiety written on Nellie's face plainly. Even if it hadn't been there, her emotions were palpable. He tried to keep his smile to himself, not wanting her to think he was laughing at her. It was merely endearing. "Whoever you want," Fig answered, "I can lead the way or I can have your back, it's whatever you're more comfortable with. We just go straight through any by the time you count to thirty, the whole thing will open up before your eyes. It's like nothing else."