They hadn't noticed him, and he had been following the two of them since he spotted them near Bottom Bridge. He hadn't quite made up his mind whether or not to rob them yet; they didn't look like they had much to offer, but they looked like they would put up too much of a fight anyway. Still, he was heading in their direction anyway, and if the opportunity presented itself...
Grimm pulled the collar of his riding coat up past his ears, nearly to the edge of his black fur hat and just low enough for his grey eyes to peer out at the road ahead. Even in thick leather gloves his hands felt the chill from the damp air.
"Come now dear, we ought to hurry or we're not gonna make it to 'athenford before nightfall." The highway whispered to his gray mare in a soft voice. She had been a harness horse before he had taken her from a farm in exchange for the lives of the farmer's family, but Hilda didn't seem to mind the violent streak of her rider; he treated her well and that's all she seemed to care about anyhow.
He checked his saber on one hip and the flintlock in his coat; he had got it from a friend years earlier, and while it was useless at anything beyond point-black he had still found it nice to have.
"We'll see about gettin' us somethin' to eat when we get to town, eh?" He wanted to see what the old man and the boy were travelling so far for as well; it wasn't as though people would spend days travelling between towns for their own health, people like Grimm saw to that.