He was not a humble man, that much was obvious as he strode into town from the deep woods.
He stood six feet or more tall, slender, with long blond hair. The bow he carried was nearly as tall as he was. His quiver was empty, however. He walked steadily, as if accustomed to walking long distances.
This was a man who demanded attention. He drew the eye and held it.
His partner, however, was opposite in every way possible.
She was short. Short temper. Short hair. Short of breath. And clearly past the end of her patience for long walks. She carried a great battle axe strapped across her back, and clearly had the strength to use it. She also had no desire to be seen or noticed.
This couple was trouble incarnate. And my peaceful town was about to become the center of some chain of events that had followed them across the lands. Unless I took action to deflect it.
I acted alone, the need was too immediate to call for the others.
I cast the first stone in the pond, and muddled the reflection and by extension of my will, muddled what they saw.
If my will prevailed, they would not see the town spread out before them, and would walk on through, seeking shelter further along their trail.
This was the prudent thing to do.
It was not necessarily the right thing to do.
It was what I did.
As the town watched silently, they made their way through.
His confident strides missed every pothole, every small animal, every picket fence.
Her furtive pace nearly caught us out, but she was too intent on keeping up.
He held the attention of everyone as his tall bow and blond hair disappeared over the ridge and back into the deep woods.
I would pay for my actions tomorrow.
But for today, we remained safe and hidden.