The Southern Irish were the ones who leaned towards the more brutish builds. They'd bred more with the English and Scots than the Northerners. Cathair was leanly muscled, but just as solid as any of the brutes he'd recruited in Belfast.
"Because we'll not be the only ones curious about the forest," he pointed out, smirking a bit as the lad clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't plan on getting bloody lost either way."
He had to chuckle as the boy started singing under his breath. Cathair stopped to tie another piece of shirt to the tree, wishing again he'd brought some duct tape or something more to mark their path with. So far, all they'd managed to do was disturbed a tree full of birds and send some small animals skittering.