Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.

A flash of lightning lit the hilly countryside as Erik made his way through the copse of trees. The driving rain slowed him, and the only light came from the occasional flashes of lightning. As he stopped to rest at the top of a hill, he looked down into the valley below to see the flickering lights of the village. His face remained expressionless as he calculated his next move, preparing to enter the village inn as quietly as possible.

Suddenly, as another streak of light split the sky, a flash of movement caught his hunters eye. Turning away from the village, he peered out into the blackness, his vision obscured by the rain. He waited patiently, watching as the seconds ticked by, until another flash lit the night. A lone figure, dressed in white, stood on the crest of a hill, arms outstretched to the heavens. Intrigued, Erik stepped forward, hoping for another glimpse of the figure, when another lightning bolt flashed. In that instant, he saw the figure rigid, seemingly terrified, and it turned to face him. Cursing the rain that hit him full in his face, Erik squinted and attempted to make out any discernable shapes in the dark. Following on the heels of the first bolt, another streaked down, illuminating a pale, feminine face directly before him.

Stifling a frightened cry, Erik stepped back into the shadows of the copse, where he felt more at ease. Distance gave him the advantage, and gave him a buffer between whatever-whoever-it was. As he watched, a pale lantern flame was lit, throwing only the barest light on the face he had seen. The face of a young woman, pensive and thin, peered out from the blackness to look in Erik's direction.

"Hello? Traveler? Villager? Who are you? I-I won't hurt you."

At this, a slight chuckle rose from Erik's throat. "I rather think not, dancer."

"You are French, traveler? A foreign visitor? But then-why do you call me dancer?"

"Your…form. You remind me of the ballets. Do you dance often?"

"I-I do not dance at all, good sir. But why are you here, in this storm?" Erik sensed a nervousness that encapsulated a lie, but what about, he did not know.

"Wouldn't that be a better question for you, girl?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir, must be off-"With a deft movement, she turned down the lantern and dashed into the copse, hoping to distract and evade Erik. Stepping forward yet again, his hunters' instincts told him precisely where she was, and he grasped her wrist with a strong hand. She cried out, but didn't struggle, and as Erik located the lantern, he turned it up to get a clearer look at his catch.

Frightened, but with her wits about her, she looked up at him. An imposing figure, he figured he must present, with his face hidden in the shadows and his mask standing out in the lantern-light. He heard her murmuring something, a chant, under her breath and he ignored the sound of the rain to listen more closely to her prayer.

"Please, good sir, I beg of you, just let me go, let me return-"

"Speak up, girl!"

"S-sir, I…I mean nothing to a traveler such as you, just let me go on my way, and I shall not get in your way again-"

"But you are a young girl, lost and alone in these woods. It would be my gentlemanly duty to escort you to the town."

"But you can't-"

"Fortunately…" He grinned and leant closer to her. "I am no gentleman."

With a quick twist of her wrist, she slipped from his grasp and stood upright, facing him over the lantern she held. "A rapist, then? A highwayman?"

"No…no, girl. I would not disgrace such innocence. But why do you wait to return to the village? Why do you stay here, questioning me?"

"Because…because if I returned now, they would know what I do. Who I am."

"And that is…?"

"A thunder dancer. I sing with the lightning, play with the thunder, dance with the steps my father taught me in the rainstorms of my childhood. In these remote parts…I am considered a demon."

Surprised by this, Erik laughed aloud. "A demon? For…this? For your art? Your dancing? Forgive me girl, but that seems hardly grounds for demonic activity."

"You do not know these people!" She shouted at him, terrified. "I would be burnt at the stake, condemned by the church as a heretic and excommunicated as I died. Unable to make my peace with God, unable to ascend, unable to repent for my sins in Purgatory, and never to see the face of my Lord! You…you stranger! Foreigner! I would be…be…"

"Condemned." His deep voice quieted her. Dressed only in an slip, drenched with the rain, her breasts stood heaving as she attempted to calm herself. Tearing his eyes from her slim figure slick with water, he looked into her eyes and thought back to memories deeply buried. "It takes more than dancing to condemn one, girl. It takes passion, it takes pain, it takes…desire. If you are a demon, then I am one ten times over-no…a hundred times."

Drawing closer to him, she stared back into his eyes and smiled. "Then, traveling demon…we devils must stay together."

Standing on tip-toe, she surprised him by pressing her lips to his, kissing him with an unexpected ferocity. She pressed her body into the recesses of his, clinging to him in the rain and the thunder. He fell backwards for a second, taken off-guard by her forcefulness, but recovering quickly, he reached up to grasp her shoulders, accepting her force and adding to it with his own.

Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, she pulled away from him and relaxed again. Smiling sadly, she reached up and felt the edges of his mask, acknowledging it without a word. Planting another kiss on his lips, she paused, then dashed off through the trees. He looked after the fleeting figure, deciding not to pursue her, and remembered the feel of her lips on his. Another flash of lightning interrupted his reverie, and he turned toward the road, hoping to pass through the village unnoticed.

This is inspired by legends of heretics during the Middle Ages…unfortunately, I don't know any specifics, so I created Thunder Dancer. Please review…I feel like I should say something profound here, but it's late and I really just want to get this up.