Dusk might seem like an odd time to take his horse for a ride, but with the arrival of spring, there was something enjoyably still about evenings and Ben couldn't resist it. Sunlight going from bright rays to shafts of burnished gold, fading to deep oranges, reds, all receding as the world washed itself with indigos and deep blues. The best part of it: In the stillness and the occasional wind carrying the scent of fresh grass with it? Generally, no one bothered you (not that Ben minds good company), and it was a very good time to think.

At present Ben is leading Gaius along the tree line. It's dark enough that he's holding a lantern up for light--old fashioned in initial appearance, but powered by batteries, far more reliable and safer than flame.

A figure not far from them catches Ben's attention, as does the light in the man's hand. He slows his pace with Gaius to a gentle tread, still leading him along. His soldierly caution catches up with him, and rather than surprise the man--if he hasn't already seen or heard Ben and his horse--he calls out,

"Hello! Nice evening, isn't it?"

It's Ben's intention to both look and sound nonthreatening, but he silently recalls the knife at his side concealed in his waistcoat and the (modern) pistol holstered in Gaius' saddle.