The cave is suitable for now, Thorin thinks. At least it isn't one of the human carved creations they slept in previously. He had a reasonably good nights sleep the night before, and being surrounded by trees and animal noises, the wet smell of moss and grass and water has certainly calmed him down and eased the pains in his body. Even if there is a bit too much snow for his liking.
Still, this deep in the forest it hasn't yet managed to creep and though it is frozen the ground isn't snowy.
Fíli is out, off walking, scouting the area, leaving Thorin to his own devices by the cave. His own devices for the moment being stretching, working his muscles back into proper use.
For thought that no human would venture out into the woodland he is walking unarmed, down to his tunic and trousers and boots. A terrible mistake, perhaps, because the footsteps approach him more rapidly than he has time to amply deal with and then suddenly someone is upon him.
Without a sword or even a dagger on hand, Thorin reaches for the nearest makeshift weapon, which happens to be a long, thin branch, a few wispy leaves still clinging stubbornly onto their stems.