The night air was crisp and alive with the chirped song of crickets, a fresh taste of the view cascaded in the brambles of that small countryside town. A horse snorts impatiently and earns a soft pat on its neck, a scoff heard from the steed's owner. "Look at them all. Dancing like fools over some get-together."

A chuckle left the male beside his friend, a hat tipped as he tilted his head and hummed lightly, letting his soft brown eyes flicker with amusement. "Patience, brother dear~"

"Don't mock me, Clinton."

Hands shifted, fixing the reigns as the taller male sighs, letting his gaze trail to the party ahead. Town folk oblivious to the striking pair watching from the shadows as music drifted in the distant air. "Oh relax, let them have their fun. Let them waste their time. We'll get what we came for soon enough."

Ritcher frowned, keeping his steed in place before pulling at his shirt and fixing his vest, letting his head shake. A gun was pulled, the darker haired young man fiddling with the weapon as if disinterested. "How you put up with their bullshit...it is beyond my understanding."

Clinton flashed an almost proud smile, his upper body swaying on his horse. "Like I said, patience. Our little dove is enjoying herself. Let her. It'll be her last taste of freedom for awhile. She'll soon come out, we'll be here to sweep her off her feet and take her home." He sighed, letting his gentle features fall to a more stern demeanor. "Worst case, we go in there and coax her out."