Quietly he rounded the large sand colored boulder. He heard Joshua on the opposite side, trying, unsuccessfully, to be quiet. It was almost mid-day and the sun was high overhead. The two of them were about to ambush a band of the enemy, two alone against at least two hands of them. But this was not their first time. They knew their roles, what do to and how and when to act. But first they needed to be close, much closer, so they must be quiet, much quieter than Joshua was being worried Caleb about his friend, as they waded through the dry, waist high shrubs that blanketed. Position and surprise were their advantage. With a hint of annoyance, Caleb unsnarled a small, leafless, light brown branch which grabbed his short white simla and refused to let go. It looked dead, yet it bent like a new limb and gripped him with an infant’s fingers, refusing to let go.
Having freed himself from the ensnaring branch, Caleb leaned against the boulder, feeling its warmth through his clothes. For a moment, he rested his head against the hard warmth of the stone and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace. Then, leaning forward ever so slightly, around the boulder, he could see them, halfway down the hill, with their shadows cascading further below and away, perfect. From where he judged Joshua to be positioned, he knew he would see them too, if, this time, he was paying attention.