Spartan makes his way, stumbles is more like it, back toward the hedge gate he knows will take him to Old One Eye. Old Scratch, his Tolltaker handler. Spartan feels like shit to be perfectly honest. He knows he shouldn't have left that fucking suite. But he couldn't sit there anymore. He couldn't watch his people lay there bleeding and dying.
Spartan knows his people were in good hands. He knows that violence was part of there lives, but that doesn't change the fact that he feels responsible for them. And responsible for what happened to them.
Spartan passes through the gate and walks along the familiar path. "SCRATCH!" Spartan yells dragging the bag behind him.
"SCRATCH!..."