For a moment, Glenn stood still, just listening to the horse approaching. He was not used to hiding from anyone, but as Roan moved into the nearby foliage, the bulky man followed suite, assuming Roan had good reason to do so. He crouched down awkwardly a few moments before a small, but stocky sorrel horse trotted into view, turning down the same path Roan and Glenn had started down. Both horse and rider, a blonde woman clad in dirty trousers with a long dagger hung on her belt, were sweaty. She glanced over her shoulder, as if checking to see if anyone was following, then continued past the two hidden figures, seeming unaware of their presence.