Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the book or the movie but I enjoyed the movie too much I couldn't hold back showing some type of appreciation for it.


Ambush:

The overloaded cart bounced down the road and Robin shifted his weight. This was his territory, his skin no longer itched like it had in the city where there was too much noise and too few trees. This was his land, and these two damsels were going to learn that truth soon enough.

His blood thrummed through his veins, a heady sensation that had a simple minute stretching into eternity. An intoxicating rush. But he would not be rushed. He crouched lower, muscles tightening...soon, just a little closer...ready…and… Now!

He pounced. Light on his feet the cart barely moved under the additional weight. A wicked smile lit his face, his fingers curling around the edges to steady his balance. The broads would never even seeing it coming.

"What's happening?"

Robin froze, mind going blank as though he had been caught red-handed. His nose crinkled as he brought himself to hand. It had to be her voice he'd heard. It held an appealing lightness, high with youth. But it was so, he rolled his eyes, cultured.

"Have we arrived?" Oh yeah, definitely a little city Miss with such proper pronunciation. His breath caught when a head popped out the window to accompany the voice. Thick auburn curls fell over her shoulders, long and loose. It was brighter than he remembered.

Another voice sounded from inside the carriage. A woman, old. But Robin already had his target, and lo and behold she was leaning out even more as though she wanted to be captured. He couldn't hesitate anymore. With a cry he lunged down, fumbling to get a grasp on her shoulders. They were small in his grasp.

But she didn't fall into a feminine faint. His hands almost slipped as she tried to jerk away from his grasp, a strangled cry tearing from her throat. He winced at the sound. But he couldn't let her go just because she was a girl.

She was a threat to his clan and he would keep his people safe.

"Check her!" The words left his lips in a rough, grated yell, "Check the old one!"

The old lady began to scream so his companion must have heard the command.

Robin grit his teeth, hands scrambling for some type of pocket where his treasure could be hiding. Though the not-so-docile city brat wasn't making things easy for him.

"Where are they?" His demand was more rhetorical. The girl was too busy fighting in his grasp to probably even hear what he was saying. But come on! Where were they?

An idea hit. "Check her pockets!"

His hand was diving lower to follow his own command, only to stop. Pain tore across his hand. Sharp, tight, and unexpected.

Robin let out a cry, leaping backward as he clutched at his wounded hand. The brat had taken a needle to him! A needle! He clutched it to his chest as the sharp pain stole his good sense.

And then he was falling. A yelp tore past his lips - which he would deny if asked about - as the cart rolled away out from under him. The ground was as unforgiving as the redhead with a needle, knocking the breath out of him. The fog-like-daze tried to cling to Robin but wavered at the sound of clinking metal. The noise held an odd familiarity that had him roll over, trying to process it. Metal...The gate! He leaped to his feet, shoving past the fog to chase after the cart and the troublesome wench.

What had she even being doing with a bloody needle? He snatched up his hat, but even as he went to close the distance the tart truth soured his mouth.

Robin was too late.

He had been so close! So bloody close! And he had nothing to show for it.

This time he didn't even try to hold back his scream, guttural and deep, but it still didn't rid his body of the tension of the failure that rolled away down the road without a care.