[center][h1][color=7E1B1B]Marcus Williams[/color][/h1]
[img]http://38.media.tumblr.com/741694939d978dba5a54eb7509dbfff3/tumblr_n4p47wgx881re995yo1_500.gif[/img][/center]
[center][color=7E1B1B][b]Location:[/b][/color] Near Markada, Northeastern Syria
[color=7E1B1B][b]Interacting With:[/b][/color] Daran and Tara [@AbandonedIntel][/center]

Marcus stuck out like a sore thumb among the YPG fighters, whereas their own equipment was varied, he was kitted out in the best operator's equipment the US Navy SEALs had on offer. He'd made a brief scouting run of the village, more so he had something to do more than anything else. Marcus hated the calm before a storm, he never could stand to sit still and wait before a fight, he felt like he always had to be doing something. Returning to the group he was with, Marcus made his way up toward Daran and Tara, tapping the trigger guard of his weapon with his finger as he scratched under the chin strap of his helmet. 

[color=7E1B1B][b]"Nothing's changed in the village, so I don't think they've caught wise to the plan, or anything."[/b][/color] He commented idly as he looked between the two. He'd been with them for a while now, long enough to get acquainted, but he still wasn't sure how much they trusted him, or even appreciated him being there. Marcus was content to be working with them, and he respected the 32nd and its leaders, Daran and Tara were both excellent fighters and leaders. Though still, Marcus couldn't help but feel a little out of place, after all, he was still essentially there just to be their more specialized killer, though that was putting it bluntly.

Marcus glanced down to the other fighters they were with, reaching up to scratch at the thin beard which had been growing on his face, he hadn't had time to shave for a while, he hadn't really had time for much at all. Marcus had been working constantly since he arrived to work with the 32nd, he did day patrols, night ops, even sentry duty, since he'd gotten there he'd tried to take up as much work as he could to try and relieve some of the 32nd, but it meant he'd had little time to relax, or even sleep. He wasn't concerned about falling asleep, but in this brief calm before combat, it always started to get to him as he rubbed his eyes.