Turkey sighed as he sat in his hideout, a large tree almost at the northern edge of the forest.

This was ridiculous. Turkey doesn't hide, Turkey attacks. He was a natural hunter, preying on both the weak and the strong.

'Yet here I am,' he thought bitterly, 'sitting around defenseless as shit, constantly on my guard and acting like that fucking pansy South Italy.'

Running a hand through his hair Turkey glared down at the "weapon" in his hands. Fucking goggles. Wearing an almost disgusted frown, Turkey supposed that a pair of night vision goggles was a small step up from a pair of regular ones. Nothing else to do besides act like a fidgety rabbit, Turkey turned the item over in his hands and began to plot.

Tonight promised to be one hell of a time.