“We are being followed,” said I.
Ceuro made a slight inclination of his head before stepping back under cover of the trees. He did not mount his horse straight away, but placed a hand, reassuringly, on Lofalmo’s broad chest. Reassuring, but also a question ‘What do you sense, my friend?’
The stallion held his head high, nostrils expanded. My mare was likewise testing the air for scent of a predator, her ears twitching to catch any sound.
All four of us were alert to movement, scent, breathing.