A pain shot through William's right shoulder; he had finally been a victim of a gunshot wound. Blinking incredulously at the amount of burning he felt, he staggered back a few steps until he finally toppled on his back. His head hit the soft earth as he continued to hear shots fired in the distance. William's breathing began to feel laboured as he tried to gain the energy to get to his feet.

Abruptly, he felt the blow of a person's boot meet his ribcage with tremendous strength. William's teeth gritted in order to prevent from screaming out in pain. His eyes were beginning to constrict as one blow after another met his momentarily untoughened body.

Regardless of the amount of pain he was under, he inwardly swore the Americans of their lack of efficiency. If one of his soldiers were to be as low as kicking their enemy instead of aiming between the eyes and getting the job done, he would be ashamed. Perhaps that was the problem with the Americans; they were far too passionate to be rational.

William finally let out a moan when he felt the snapping of one of his ribs. He quickly looked around for a way to get out of the situation he was under. His eyes roamed faintly until they fell on his gun that sat nearby him. Just before he attempted to reach the gun, he heard a gun fire and the sound of a body hitting the ground. He came to the conclusion that his attacker had finally been gunned down by one of his own soldiers.

As William's eyelids began to feel heavy, he noticed a few figures standing over him muttering things he did not bother to understand clearly. He heaved a great sigh before his eyesight blurred until there was nothing but utter darkness.

William's eyes fluttered when he heard the faint sound of a person humming a harmonious tune. As soon as his eyes opened, sheer brightness welcomed him back to consciousness. His view was pure white until a face reached his sight. It did not take long to realize that the face belonged to a woman.

From what he could see, she was not a bad looking girl. Her complexion was flawless and lightly touched by the sun, letting William know that she is a woman who is not afraid of manual labour and spends a great deal of time outside. Her hair was a deep shade of auburn and was pulled back into a lose bun. Her green eyes were surprisingly tense and uneasy as they met his.

"I'm not dead, am I?" he said with a trace of bitterness.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Far from it, Colonel."

Before William had a chance to say anything else, a searing pain stroked his ribcage. His entire body tensed as he refrained from crying out. "What in hell are you doing?" he grunted.

He could hear the girl sigh in frustration. "Would you do me a favour?" She didn't bother to wait for his response. "This could go much more smoothly if you would only sit up. So if you don't mind," she said, placing a hand on her hip.

William threw her a disgruntled look before slowly getting up in a sitting position. "I'm going to make the assumption that your mother never taught you manners."

The girl ignored the quip about her manners and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "You cracked a rib during battle," she said hurriedly. "You need to lift your shirt so I can tend to you properly."

William hesitated then lifted up his shirt carefully. "Mind you, I didn't crack my rib. That was caused by an American," he said spitefully.

The girl began to wrap his ribs tenderly. "I do believe you know what I meant, Colonel."

William's eyes rolled. "Only one rib then?" he pressed on.

She nodded slowly, keeping her attention on his ribcage. "No, Colonel. You were shot in your right shoulder," she said, arching an eyebrow.

William frowned at her. "Do you have a problem with me, girl?" he said with harshness.

The girl shook her head. "Of course I don't," she said evenly. "Who could ever have a problem with the Butcher?" she said, tightening the bandage that made its way around his ribcage.

William winced violently. "You aren't as gentle as you look," he said gruffly.

The girl's eyes finally met his. "You would think the Butcher would be able to handle a cracked rib and a shot to the shoulder," she retorted coolly.

William's eyes turned into slits. "You know me as the Butcher and you think you have me all figured out. That's hardly fair seeing as I don't even know who in the hell you are," he said darkly, getting to his feet.

The girl pursed her lips. "You might not know who I am," she said in a low voice, "but I will make sure you never forget me."

William glared at her for a moment before opening his mouth to say something in return. Bordon walked in the tent before either one of them could bicker any longer.

"Good to see you are conscious, sir," he said with a genuine smile.

The girl returned the glare as she gathered her supplies to leave the tent silently.

Bordon leered at her as she left the tent swiftly. "She is rather different, isn't she, sir?" he commented with a slight smirk.

William massaged his shoulder as he chuckled bitterly. "If by different you mean crazy, then yes," he grumbled.

Bordon nodded his head slightly. "I'm here because Cornwallis requests to see you. He figured you would be up by this time," he explained hastily.

William sighed as he reached for his uniformed frock coat. "I'll be there in moment's time."

"Of course, sir," he said before turning his back on William and stepping out of the tent.

William shrugged his coat on, causing his shoulder to sting painfully. He swore under his breath; another weakness to deal with.