Uaithne Cináed Fearghal Orvar
Thankfully Great Aunt Brigid was quickly distracted by Sister Deborah, though Uaithne payed her opening statements little heed. He moved quickly, quietly, with a feral grin on his face. He found his bag, right where he'd left it. He tuned into Deborah's speech as she mentioned the witches lost. He thought of his dad, though it had been years now. He wondered if dad was watching, as he paused with the coven in a quiet moment of rememberance... Tonight Uaithne would be adding his name to a list, and every night there after... It might join his father's name, and so many others.
Uaithne slipped his pack on, as Sister Deborah continued her speech. He clipping the belt and chest binders and adjusting them until they sat snug. His bag contained mostly medical supplies, including a folding canvas stretcher. It also held the quick release holster for his modern replica production of the Gewehr 98, chambered in the popular 9.3x62 mm. The heavy rifle, nearly ten pounds, was just over 4ft in length which was comically oversized for Uaithne. His pack also held three quivers of twenty arrows for the bow Uaithne held, unstrung. He strapped a fourth quiver, that had been laying next to his pack, to his right thigh for easy access. Satisfied that he was ready, Uaithne moved to the designated starting point. He didn't say anything to anyone, and barely responded if anyone bothered... He was focused on the night ahead now.
The pack was heavy, but Uaithne had been training to carry twice the weight during his recent weekend adventures. He adjusted to the extra weight easily, and moved with confidence as Sister Deborah finished up her speech. He found a comfortable shadow to wait in, and listened to everything and nothing. Not bothering to pick out words, he instead caught tones and inflections... The group seemed to be in good spirits. Uaithne waited, his eyes closed, though smile played at the corners of his mouth still.
Speaks to: N/A