There was an instant that everything felt like it was going to be alright, but something deep down easily torn into her chest as a confrontation of inalienable self-consciousness. She didn't know where she was going, but this place was all but quiet and it held an eerie haze that soaked all the inhabitants of this long forgotten forest. The soft caress of wavy locks brushed against her gentle face, as her silver gaze kept onward but yet she was indescribably tense, and yet she never felt this way before when she was on her own. It was difficult to see in this dark abyssal forest, the sun barely crept through the leaves of these outstandingly tall trees above and around her frail form.

But a faint monstrous scream brought her attention to the sight in front of her, as shadows seemed to run and crawl through the faint light. She was unsure for a moment to interfere, but it appeared as if a normal human were fighting against yoma as her senses crawled. What is that person doing? There's two… no three… five. Darn it. She cursed under her breath, and her frail fingertips reached back to the hilt of her claymore as she ran forward without so much as another thought. All she could think was to save this human from those creatures, before it would be to late…

The shadow of, what would appear human, a cloaked woman struggling against all five of the yoma that viciously attacked upon sight. She already slayed two of them, the blood etched on her sword that invisibly danced with the wind with perfect accuracy. But she did not go unscathed, the yoma were not normal despite their appearance, they were stronger and faster than normal ones and wanted to kill this person for intruding on their little group.

Like a burst of wind the last remaining three, already wounded from the strangers' sword, were sliced and cut beyond compare. The leaves of the forest floor beneath her and the stranger perfectly rounded into earthy dirt without a single leaf, and the yoma lay writhing on the ground until freezing up with the disgusting purple blood riddled around them. As the warrior slowly turned to the stranger her eyes widened in shock; the light colored cloak had slipped off her head and in hand a large sword that was nonetheless a claymore like her own.

Silver eyes drifted to the symbol upon the claymore; a cross. The realization came to slow as she was suddenly knocked out, and the other warrior cursed under her breath as she carried the young one with her towards her home. She didn't want to be found out, and to sense the young warriors yoki suddenly spark with obviously noticing whom she was, just wasn't going to go right with her. She wasn't going to leave the frail claymore out in the wilderness unconscious; more of those damned yoma could show up any time and possibly kill her after she left.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she muttered to herself and ran like the wind with powerful bursts of speed that pushed her quicker towards her destination. If I left her she would have thought it was some dream, but look at me… what threw me into this mess? The senior warrior clenched her teeth, and clutched the light body against her shoulder, she didn't want this mess but it was already; too late to turn back now.

Arriving shortly at the small cottage of a home she took the warrior inside, setting the frail body on the bed and put her claymore against the wall. Her own delicately pulled from within its compartment and placed elsewhere, the cloak fluttering on her lithe form slightly with every movement. Damn it. You aren't thinking right anymore, Irene. Why the hell did you bring her here? Irene sighed heavily, and pursed her lips as she immediately left the warrior inside alone to confront herself outside.

Inside the warrior stirred, and her hand slipped to the back of her head where she was knocked out, but barely recalled what happened. She could only see the flash of another claymore in that stranger's hands, and silver hair that delicately swirled from the wind of her windcutter. Eyes fluttering open in an attempt to see where she was, sitting up and fingers met with the sheets of a bed, a small sound escaping her frail lips. Perhaps, it was a dream… and I was in a town all this time.

But the sunlight through the window glistened on the blade across the room to her left, eyes wincing at the sudden sneer of light in her face. Squinting slightly as she noticed the symbol that she could barely remember from earlier, and gasped lightly as her eyes widened mistakably. Her head spun for a moment but she got up to her feet, and slipped over towards the claymore as her shadow faintly cast darkness over the blade. Former number two… mused the young warrior, but suddenly paused as another shadow cast itself behind her.

"What were you doing, butting in on a fight that didn't concern you?"

Hesitating slightly, that voice was so cold and demanding that it sent a cold shiver straight down her spine, causing her shoulders to shake slightly as her timid gaze turned to meet with the elfin warrior. Staring half in awe, and admiration, but suddenly shaking it off as those piercing silver eyes scowled awaiting for an answer.

"It appeared like you needed help –" She responded lightly, but you looked like a human at first.

"Well, I didn't. I would have had them all down in a few seconds, and you interfered." A deep throated growl leaving the seniors throat, "But, I think you for your efforts. I didn't mean to delve you unconscious."

"You hit me-?" She whispered under her breath, and shivered faintly as the wavy locks fell into her face slightly.

"What's your name...?"

Again, the cold voice demanded an answer, and she was not just going to sit idly to let that intrusion on her fight go without a name of the warrior who did after all help.

"Flora. Windcutter Flora, number eight."

"As I thought."

Was Irene's only answer, she could sense the warriors yoki flow like no tomorrow, she might have been old but her senses and skills grew to be mightier than they were in the past. And still as cold as ever to keep herself within the calm state of mind, she turned and proceeded for the doorway.

"Wait-!"

There was a sudden worriment in Flora's voice, the older warrior had been injured but was obviously ignoring the pain that surged through her body. But as soon as the warrior stopped, blood started dripping from her legs beneath the hidden view of the cloak straight to the wooden floor beneath them with soft pattered clicks.