Watching the road, the wind blew cold air onto Horace and Halfdan. Blowing out white mist, the two ignored the chill they felt and focused on the road before them. Closing his eyes, Horace listened carefully. Through the wind, he could hear a few horses in the distance and nodded towards Halfdan.
Understanding what it meant, Halfdan pulled out a throwing knife, whilst Horace readied his bow. It was times like these when Horace couldn't help but be annoyed that Halfdan only had one hand. Despite that, he had faith in his abilities to throw a knife.
Watching them get closer, Horace lifted his bow and aimed, whilst Halfdan tried to calculate the throw. Flipping the knife, he nodded to Horace. "Three. Two. One." On his count, the two attacked the two escorts. Horace watched as his arrow pierced through his target, but Halfdan's knife flew wide, into the treeline.
