The deer in the forest

The deer were trumpeting, a cacophony that echoed through the forest. Their reputation for being shy, withdrawn creatures was overstated, Sir Guy had found - certainly in the King's forest. With his eyes closed, he could hear the deer more clearly; with his eyes closed, he could feel the sword at his throat, the cold metal of it, the sharp point just barely piercing his skin.

With his eyes closed, he didn't have to watch the outlaws loot the chest he had been tasked with guarding.

The deer were trumpeting in a way that sounded a bit too close to laughter.