[ It's only when they're waiting than he itches for a trap on him. A smoke bomb, a snare, something that offers more of an advantage than plain old surprise. He can manage without, but it's ingrained habit. Only recently has he stopped reaching for pockets in the belt. Its weight is unfamiliar to him, empty as it is. ]
[ The something is two somethings, the trees shake as they come down. ]
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[ The something is two somethings, the trees shake as they come down. ]