Geralt glances back at her. Maybe, maybe not. He's not sure it makes a difference; Geralt tends to err on the side of caution. On the side of shit will get ugly because it often does.
In the end, it doesn't matter when the horses pull up quickly: two men on horseback, a woman leading aground. It is only then that he realizes they may not be bandits exactly. Something about their look, their horses, the fact that only two of them are armed. What are they then? Desperate common folk resorting to robbery?
(That changes things, a little.)
He takes a step or two forward. His sword is in his hand, but it remains at his side.
"Nadine." She should really move—only there isn't much time for that when there's a faint click of a crossbow lifting. He dives for the woman without hesitation; the bolt buries itself in a trunk. Nadine falls out of his sight as they roll on the ground. He hopes she's jumped on her horse, but there're still two others moving to intercept her while he's occupied.
no subject
In the end, it doesn't matter when the horses pull up quickly: two men on horseback, a woman leading aground. It is only then that he realizes they may not be bandits exactly. Something about their look, their horses, the fact that only two of them are armed. What are they then? Desperate common folk resorting to robbery?
(That changes things, a little.)
He takes a step or two forward. His sword is in his hand, but it remains at his side.
"Nadine." She should really move—only there isn't much time for that when there's a faint click of a crossbow lifting. He dives for the woman without hesitation; the bolt buries itself in a trunk. Nadine falls out of his sight as they roll on the ground. He hopes she's jumped on her horse, but there're still two others moving to intercept her while he's occupied.