The small deacon (Laird) upon his muscled mount (Nick) stumble forth through the woods, clouding the little moonlight that creeps into your eyes as they walk past. The smaller one holds a crossbow at his side, oil dripping from its tip like a threatening venom. The larger one grumbles as he moves, bandages covering his face all but for one eye that stares forward with a milky white sheen as he moves

Nick: "Find."

Laird: "Don't worry, Nick. We'll find the outsider. Just move yerself faster and we'll find em. In time, as Knoth is my father and as God is our guide."

Nick: "Love. Knoth."

Laird nods at Nick's comment, steering the hulking figure to the left and away from your hiding spot, unbeknownst to them