Author's Note: Set during the episode Paradise Syndrome. From phrases in a fic tree: stalks through an unfamiliar forest, looking for something, and has she held a sword before.
He stalks through an unfamiliar forest, as silent as the prey he hunts. The breeze it at his face, keeping his scent from her as he slips between tree trunks and weaves close. There, in sun-dappled shade at the water's edge. A doe.
A darkness flashes over his mind, like the shadow of the falcon as it dives. He stumbles, catches a tree trunk with his hand, and cracks a branch beneath his heel. A flash of tawny flank, and he's alone.
He's breathing fast, staring at the spot where the doe stood. His thoughts are tangled, confused, and he can't remember. He was looking for something. Quickly, before time runs out.
Danger.
His hand falls to his hip and the weapon is in his hand in an instant. He whirls, searching out the enemy, but his eye catches on the thing he's holding. A knife? It feels wrong. Strips of leather are wrapped around the hilt, and they chafe against his palm. He's pointing it like a... A what? He shakes his head, trying, but it slips away as quickly as the deer. Not a knife, he knows. The grip is wrong. Has he held a knife before?
He stares at his hand and carefully rearranges his fingers, testing. Yes. He thinks so. But it's not the thing he jumps to. His mind's forgotten, but his body knows something different.
"Kirok?"
He turns, and sees her. Hair is dark as a raven's wing and eyes just as mysterious. The confusion inside goes still at the sight of her. So beautiful in the shadowed cathedral of the trees. She smiles. This instinct, he understands.
He takes her hand. At her touch, peace settles over him. He smiles, and answers, "Yes."