"Well, if it's a horse you want, you're in luck, my old friend. I know a good breeder; fine riding steeds. Been at it for a very long time, and that's by an elf's reckoning. Got it down to a science, they do. It'll cost quite a few of your shiniest gold coins, but after this trip, I imagine you'll be able to afford it, and then some, yeah?" And really, there is no lie here. Some exaggeration, but no; his particular riding horse was, in fact, bred by an elf who had been at it for a couple hundred years.  Leofwine didn't really know the fellow, though; not in the sense that they were friends, or anything. Just knew of him.<br/><br/>"I might pick up a nice bow, myself. There's something nice and real about being in the thick of things, but let's face it; men like me don't always have the longest life expectancy, hey?" He said with a light chuckle. Leofwine did notice the archer, but made sure not to act too jerkily or hastily. He saw, and then he just casually turned his attention back to the road, trying to appear as if he did not care. But his words... no, Ares should remember from their time fighting together. Leofwine liked to be in the thick of things. Perhaps a bit of a martyr himself, his style was to draw the attention to himself, and to keep the heat off his companions. Picking up a bow and learning archery is completely out of character.<br/><br/>It was in this way that he was trying to subtly communicate to his traveling companion that there was danger, without alerting the potential enemy he had seen. Of course, this would be entirely reliant on Ares realizing and remembering; a risky gambit, he knew, but he had to have faith in his fellow-in-arms.