At last, it was time to deploy. The feline nodded and gave a half thumbs up towards the smaller mouse, confirming that he understood.
“I’ll be there.” Was all he said before she left, the feline rotating his head slightly to watch her vanish down the hall.
With that, the Tabaxi slipped back and eased the door to a silent close, stepping back into the room and making any final adjustments to his gear. Biting his lip, he cautiously plucked the flag from the wall, showing respect as he folded it and slipped it into the small backpack that contained the rest of his goods. After picking up the pack, he slung his tempered machete and glanced out the window one final time.
The snow wouldn’t end, apparently. So much for rolled sleeves. Deliberately, He unrolled and cuffed the sleeves of his apparel before withdrawing a black and grey checkered cloth from his cargo pocket. For now, he wrapped the cloth around his neck like a scarf. When it came time to depart, he’d most likely have to drop the beret and wrap his head with it completely. While the beret was nice, it wasn’t practical for the cold.
Feeling as though he was ready, Victor proceed to walk out the room, striding down the hall and tapping on his machete lightly as he made way to the sitting room. He hoped dinner would be good tonight. Granted, it was usually good every night, but maybe it would be even better since they were about to leave. Something told him rations would be most of his diet while traveling.
And alcohol. He just had to keep his ordinance and booze separated this time. He wasn’t going to repeat a past incident.
Shuddering at the thought, he walked into the sitting room and took a moment to gently lower his pack. Natural intuition urged him not to be throwing his gear around all over the place like he was earlier in his private quarters. After a moment of scanning the area and adjusting the sheath for his machete, he spotted his boss and gave an enthusiastic smile. As per his nature, he gave a proud, albeit slightly sarcastic greeting.
“Well hello there, you look like a ray of sunsh-“ Just before finishing his sentence, one of the small, black powder charges fell out of an unsecured pouch on his vest. Hitting the ground with a quiet, harmless thud, Victor looked at the grey wolf, the ordinance, and back again. Frozen in place for a few moments, he smiled with a bit of guilt and hesitantly said;
“That could have been worse.” After nudging it behind his pack and out of sight with his boot, he slipped his hands in his pockets, deliberately moving past his clumsy moment as he asked.
“So what’s the plan?”