Author's Note:
FYI, this story ties in with 'Love, Hate and War' and will join together at one point, so some things will make more sense if you go and read it too...
*gets smaked in the head for advertiesing*
Author: Onewa! *death glare*
Onewa: you're a regular Ko-Matoran, ain't ya?
Author: yeah, but I'm also a girl, so nya! XP
Onewa: *rolls eyes* lets just get on with this.
Author: Fine by me! *starts typeing*
"Thirty-three... thirty-four... thirty-five..." the woman mumbled to herself; counting the yellow-liquid filled darts as she placed them into the loops of the belts that criss-crossed her chest.
A thin, silver gloved hand playfully flipped a lock of her black, wavy hair. "You gonna' sit there counting tranquilizers all night, or you gonna' eat?" She looked up into his smiling gray-silver face; his golden shaggy bangs coming down over his lava orange eyes. It was hard to believe that this boyish face belonged to a being nearly eight thousand years old.
"Sorry, Mimic," she sighed, setting down her equipment on the mossy log next to her. She then reached over the small camp fire and grabbed a leg off the six-legged, rabbit like, rahi on the spit. "Its alright, Rose," Mimic said, wipping away a bit of wine that had dribbled down his chin with the back of his hand, "I know how missions put you on edge." Rose nodded sighlently, remembering the mission.
About three days ago, Lariska had approched the two while training on odina to diliver their orders. To put it simply, they were to deliver a 'message' to a small group of Vortix traitors on one of the far southern islands; the more painfully deliverd, the happier their employer would be. They were not told why these Vortix were brannded traitors, nor was it to be thier consern. A paid Hunter was a happy Hunter, after all, and that should be their only consern.
Rose's dark skined face twisted into a deep frown. She hated this kind of work, all the blood and senseless violence that came with it. But what choice did she have? If she so much as attempted to leave, they would head straight to Metru-Nui and kill her daughter; her sweet little girl who looked so much like her father. Rose sighed and pulled out the round, silver locket; clicking it open and close absentmindedly.
"You're thinking about them again, arn't you?" Mimic's soft, deep voice snapped her out of the trance like state she had been in. "Yes..." she whispered; turning away, determined not to let her sheild-brother see the pain in her face. "You know," Mimic's expression softened and his playfull tone dissapeared, "its ok to miss them... And I've always got your back." She looked up, a few tears had fallen from her chocolate brown eyes, leaveing wet tracks on her cheeks. Mimic put an arm around Rose and held her as she cried.
"If I ever hear *sniff* that you told any one *sniff* about this..." Mimic chukled at her tease, "Now why would I want to embaress my little shield-sister like that?" Rose wipped her face, "if I remember right, I'm the older one, little Mic." She gave a smile and a small shove to accompany the remark.