The man didn't see the sharp poison covered blades until the instant before his foot hit the ground, he quickly withdrew his feet and leapt from his horse, propelling himself violently into the brush near the trail, blade tucked close to his body. A sharp pain, followed by a tingling burn incased his foot. He hadn't quite made it. a single blade was pressed no more than a few millimetres through his toe. He already felt drowsy, but at the same time, more alert than ever. He had been the leader of a race of barbarians, berserkers, and now the old blood fo his family shone through. He felt so alive, so happy, the ecstasy of the fight nearly brought him to his knees. he would die tonight, whether or not it was the man's blade or his won, his life would end, but that man would come with him. he pulled a concealed dagger from his boot, and with a bestial scream, through it with all his might at the man, still waiting in the trees. he had his own poison on that blade, a poison that cause dreariness and grogginess. Perhaps that would even the odds. He felt surprisingly light hearted as he charged towards the tree
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