Of all days THIS is the day that everyone in the Capitol wants to stop and chat with Nate Quinn. They chat about everything – his interviews, books, even how the flaked potatoes hadn’t been so bad last night. It’s difficult for Nate, who seldom looks impatient and has always welcomed and been accommodating to conversation previous to this walk he’s on to a specific location, to look put off. His brow has been in a constant crinkle for about thirty minutes now.
It’s only when he’s stopped by Ms. Cejo that he dares to peek at his wrist watch. It’s 9:53 and that leaves him seven minutes to get where he’s supposed to be. He doesn’t want to seem suspicious. Ms. Cejo is the wife of an important man around here but she’s been to Scotland and automatically has decided that Nate and her have momentous things in common – Haggis being a prime something- a topic that she seems to bring up at each and every opportunity. “I didn’t think I’d like it. It’s one of those food that scare people but I have to say, it’s amazingly delicious. I can see why it’s the beloved food of a nation.”
“I have tae recipe. I’ll send it along…”he is pulling away, moving backward, still facing her as she continues to chatter on about black pudding and cobblestones. Even when his back is turned she continues to prattle on about heather and the moors. “I find ye later.” He calls back over his shoulder and peers down at the dial on his wrist. Five minutes to get there.
There’s an obstacle course of faces but he tries to look distracted, as if he’s caught in a thought, and manages to get through the rest, rushing up to Door C just as the knuckles of the person he’s meeting, he hopes, begin rapping on the door.
A look behind him to make sure no one is there, that no one has followed and he opens it a crack to see the Dog King on the other side.
“They’re out in numbers te’day.” He says, meaning the capitol bugs, scurrying around making busy work of their time here. “Let’s nae waste time.” And they’re off. That’s how Nate deals with his nerves. He does without hesitation.