Quinn excused himself with a frown, and stepped outside.
The cool morning air was a relief against his musty flesh, and he took a moment to savour it's gentle caress.  He slipped his bandage off from around his face and let the breeze loosen up his scars a little.  He could almost forget it all here and now, in this fleeting moment of peace.  
You had to take them when they came, if you weren't paying attention those moments wouldn't stop and wait for you.
After about thirty seconds, he opened his eyes again and replaced his bandages, before relieving himself and going back inside.

"Sooner we make tracks, the better," he said to Jake, regaining some of yesterday's confidence.  He couldn't change the past, but he could damn sure slam his fist down on the future and keep these motley bunch of misfits alive for as long as possible.  
If he knew the Blood Army - and he considered himself something of an authority on them - then he knew they'd come looking for their missing scouts soon.
Quinn hoisted his pack onto one shoulder and awaited Jake's response.