((Sorry for the huge delay...  school happens.))<br/>Feign looks around the area, assessing the cover points and routes between them.  Almost without realizing it, he picks up one of the fallen guards' crossbow quivers.  The bolts are of poor quality, but they'll work well enough with his bow.  He tosses the quiver behind one of the central cover points, doing the same for others, finding all the unused bolt bags and dropping them strategically.  With a satisfactory number of stashed bolts, he sits behind one of the overturned benches where a heavily armored fur is slumped over in a position to provide cover with his otherwise useless armor.<br/><br/>He finishes typing out his message on the tiny pulse transmittor when he's confident that noone is looking.  As soon as he's done, he plugs the back of a steel bolt into the device, placing both back into the quiver.  The report is done, the difficult part will be living to deliver it.<br/><br/>And now, he waits.