The next morning, far earlier than Blake would've preferred, he was shoving clothes into his backpack with all the enthusiasm of someone packing for jury duty.
"Do I even need to pack? It's not like I own anything formal anyway…"
He paused mid-stuff, stared at his pile of very un-formal clothing, then stretched and zipped the bag shut. Slinging it over his shoulder, he muttered, "Better to have it and not need it."
Another location had come in overnight. Unknown number. Again. The place pinned on the map was secluded, practically hiding from civilization.
"They really wanted him tucked away somewhere no one would look. What was he, some secret love child? Which would be ridiculous. You don't hide someone and then invite them to a party."
Spoon still hadn't replied. No missions. No cryptic instructions. No passive-aggressive nudges.
Not that Blake was complaining, but with Spoon, silence was never a good sign.
Especially now.
