After the sun was well past its zenith Nat had already left the Sap town far enough not to see it. However, his followers didn't leave him. Occasional cracks in the woods. Once, the half-elf could swear he heard a whisper. The wagon tracks were still quite deep too and Nat started seeing arrows stuck in the ground. every once in a while.
[i]"Interesting. Arrows. So there was battle here. Or just a shoot-out. The pursuer's caught up, so the folk in the wagon fought back."[/i] Nat slowed down and plucked one arrow out of the ground. It was a well-made arrow, not the one you would find rusting in an old barn of a farmer. 
[i]"The wagon was not of that town. It belonged to someone else. Someone, who dares oppose Fusos. A rebel, one would call him."[/i] he thought inspecting the arrowhead.

He threw the arrow away and continued forward inspecting the wagon trail. Nat assumed that there were at most two archers, if they were bad or one if he was at least somewhat skilled, because of the density of arrows on the trail. Continuing onward he found a bloodstain, though no body. "They hit, but the body was moved. The pursuers' casualty." - he mumbled to himself. 

Nat raised his head to look at the Sun. He understood there still was a lot of daylight, though he felt exhausted after the night's march. With a sigh he drank some water and continued following the trail, tired but now rather intrigued instead of being annoyed. He also needed to lose his pursuer's but couldn't think of a way yet.