Theodore didn't like this. That went without saying, but he also knew this was his price for revenge. He didn't trust Lestrange and he trusted Bole even less, but what choice had he? The only thing that really mattered anymore was making his father pay for his true crime.
Following Lestrange's directions through the forest to Bole's hideaway wasn't difficult. The actual traversing of the terrain was, however, making his bum leg ache with exertion. Still, he pressed on, because he had no choice. Pilfering the food from the kitchens was not even that difficult, since he just told the kitchen elves the food was for him. It helped that Bitty and Ditty, the house elves from the Nott family estate, were now working at Hogwarts. They would give Theodore anything he asked.
Those provisions now filled a sack that he'd shrunk to carry in his pocket, and with the food there were some spare robes and a blanket. Enough for someone to keep themselves alive a week or two longer in the forest.
He did start when Bole slipped out of the scenery, but fortunately, he was on Theodore's good side - for vision at least. He hated that he startled, but it was to be expected. Still, he loathed giving Bole any sort of reaction.
He tried to affect calm as he removed the sack from his pocket and enlarged it, then tossed it over, left hand still pushing his cane into the soft ground for balance. "Food, clothing, blankets. No severed squirrel heads, sorry." He knew Lestrange had told Bole not to harm him, but the face looking at him was not one that followed orders. Still, he couldn't help the flippancy. If Bole wanted to keep surviving, he needed Theodore. If Bole didn't need Theodore, Theodore would stop coming.