Chapter 3:

Unanswered Questions

Sleep must have snuck up on me, because when I reopen my eyes, the room around me is light with morning glow. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and rub my neck, wincing slightly at the ache in it. Sleeping in that chair was a bad idea, and standing up only heeds to make me aware that my entire body is a mess of aches and pains.

'This is ridiculous…'

Careful not to wake Gunther or Eld, I silently slip through the room and head outside. Soft sunshine glistens everywhere, every plant and blade of grass is covered in drops of morning dew.

Groaning slightly, I take a moment to stretch out my muscles, squinting at the sore pull in some of them. Yesterday took more out of me than I thought, though it isn't that surprising. I've come to grow use to the ritual after all these years, and with the serene scene around me, it's tempting to believe that all those troubles are ages away.

With I sigh I tug at the hem of my jacket, scowling at the dirt and numerous wrinkles that now speckle the fabric.

'Tch. And I don't have a damn thing to change into either.'

I decide to let the issue go for now, there isn't much I can do about it anyway, and start walking around to the far side of the house where we have the horses tethered to an empty clothes line. Before I even round the corner, I can already hear movement on the other side and the sound of someone talking in a hushed voice. Turning, I'm not at all surprised to see the ginger haired woman with brush in hand, speaking softly to the animals as she grooms them.

She is too busy in her task to notice me, and only when I'm a few feet away does she glance to the side and jump faintly at my sudden appearance and her hand flies to the collar of her shirt.

"I… didn't see you there." She says as she regains herself, looking embarrassed at the notion that I had startled her.

I refuse to answer her and instead lean myself against the side wall of the house.

"You got up to tend to our horses?"

She shrugs, running her brush through a brown mane.

"I woke up early." She states simply. "And I enjoy their company."

I nod slightly as she turns her back to me to continue her task, and I busy myself with studying her.

It was difficult trying to see any detail about her yesterday as it was dark the entire time, but now that she is in the light, I see that she is indeed as short as I thought. She'd changed from wearing that hideously oversized shirt and jeans into a nice tan blouse and a long, dark green skirt that is more fitting for a woman. Her hair, which is pretty much as ginger and bright as I assumed it would be, is tied back in a loose ponytail, though it is short and strands stand astray in every direction. Her skin is obviously fair, though the tops of her arms have a slight tan to them, and freckles dot her here and there.

When she turns to work on de-tangling a tail, her full appearance comes into light. Slanting bangs frame her face, and her cheeks and nose have a slight dusting of light freckles. Her nose and mouth are small, just like the rest of her, and her almond shaped eyes are a light shade of blue. I'm a bit intrigued by how childish her features are.

She works deftly and silently now that I'm here, but after a minute or two, she looks at me, hands brushing the horse's muzzle affectionately.

"Do you always tether your horses in this way?"

I lift my head a little at her question.

"While out on missions."

The woman blinks, slight confusion etching her features.

"Why?"

"What sort of dumb ass question is that?" I reply curtly, narrowing my eyes.

She physically recoils from my language and turns fully toward me.

"It isn't dumb. All I wish to know is why you keep them tethered. Are they not trained?"

"Of course they are. All of our horses go through training before they are assigned to a soldier, and we tether them so they don't wander away. What does training have to do with anything?"

"I was just under the assumption that the Military trained their horses to know when to stay. It's simple enough for them to learn." She explains, half way done with grooming the final horse.

"No, we don't. They are trained to come when we whistle for them, but not stay in one place. What do you know of all that anyway? You know how to train horses?" I retort a bit sarcastically to which she simply nods with a hint of something like pride on her face.

"I do. I have a horse of my own."

I raise a brow.

"Really?"

"Yes. I'll call him for you if you would like."

It wouldn't have mattered if I wanted to say no, because she doesn't give me any time to answer. Without stopping her brushing, she turns her head and whistles a short tune into the woods; a slow, low note, then two quick high notes.

A few seconds later, the thud of hooves against earth come to my ears, and then, emerging from the trees right behind her comes the largest horse I have ever seen.

Standing taller than six feet, I'm sure, is a beast of an animal. Every part of it is solid muscle from its gray body to its white legs… Even its neck is curved and thick.

The woman breaks out into a smile and lifts her hand up to pet the creature's broad muzzle, large, dark eyes blinking down on her. At her touch, the horse quivers, lowering its massive head to rest it on her shoulder, though doing so must be uncomfortable considering the thing is so damn tall and the woman so short. The horse seems to exude strength as it nuzzles its owner, padding the ground with a large, oddly fur covered hoof.

With a loud pat to its sturdy neck, the woman turns back to me, eyes alight.

"This is Stonewall." She introduces, running her fingers over the stallion's rough coat.

I can't help myself as I answer her, staring at the animal with a slight awe.

"Your horse is a monster."

She lets out a small laugh, "He is a bit large, isn't he?" she says, rubbing Stonewall's neck with one hand while grooming our final horse with the other.

I cross my arms, contemplating the pair before me.

"Do you have a pasture?"

"No." she replies. "I never tether him, and he comes and goes as he pleases. I trained him to come when I call, and stay within whatever area I tell him to stay in. That is why I inquired you about your horse's training earlier."

With a final pat, the woman withdraws her hand and the stallion lifts its head, dark eyes staring at me. It holds me there for a moment without moving as if watching me, then, with a huff and shake of its head, it turns and trots back into the woods.

"Well, I guess that will suffice for now."

Finishing up her chore, the woman starts to walk around the horses toward me and tosses her brush into a small, empty basket by the wall.

"There is a bag of carrots in the far left cabinet if you want to feed your horses. I gave them each two a piece this morning, but I didn't know whether you and your companions had a preference on your horse's feed."

She brushes the bangs from her face and dusts some loose horse hair from her skirt.

"After I grab my shoes, I'm going out in search of fresh yarrow for your friend Gunther. I should not be long." She tells me. "Is there anything you wish for me to find for you? Or keep an eye out for perchance?"

I regard her coolly before replying.

"No."

The woman nods slightly, and she looks at the ground, scuffing her bare feet on the grass. I guess she is waiting on me to say something else, but when I don't she turns and walks a few paces, looking at me over her shoulder.

"Well… I guess I'll be off then." She says awkwardly, and when I once again don't reply, she hurriedly makes her way around the corner and out of my sight.

I don't follow her for a long time. I feel no desire to head back inside and be assaulted by questions from my squad on what we should do next. I honestly had no idea. Until Gunther is well enough to travel again, none of us are going anywhere.

I sigh and lean my head against the stone house, frustrated at the fact that we are no more than sitting ducks right now, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I close my eyes and stay leaned up against the wall for a long time, letting my mind run and wander as it pleases.

It isn't until the morning dew has long since evaporated and the sun is beginning to grow hot on my face that I leave and re-enter the house.

Inside, it seems everyone besides Oluo are awake; Gunther sits up in the couch chatting idly with Eld while Petra and Eren stand in the kitchen watching the ginger woman do something on the counter. I had no idea she had come back so soon.

"You just crush it up like that?" Eren's voice sounds as he watches the woman work.

"Yes. You can make yarrow into a tea to treat fever, but for bleeding and infection, you mash it into a pulp like so." She replies, reaching up into a cabinet to take out a small plate.

"That's amazing." Eren comments, to which Petra nods. "It is. I had no idea you can use plants this way."

"There are a number of uses you can implement if you are willing to learn." The woman smiles, scooping the greenish mush onto the plate before walking to round the couch and sets it on the table.

"May I see your leg?" she asks Gunther, kneeling down beside him.

"Sure. Go right ahead."

Shifting a little, they manage to lay his leg back down on the towel she had last night and begins to remove the wraps. The gash has not healed at all, but it looks loads better already. Peeling off the old yarrow stalks, the wound underneath it shines a bit with water and juice. Most of the swelling and redness of infection is gone, and it doesn't smell anymore.

"Much better..." The woman mutters to herself, carefully moving the brown haired man's leg to examine the injury. "I had not expected the dried stalks to work so wonderfully, but it's just as well they had. Perhaps we will be able to start healing you by nightfall. One can hope."

"I sure hope so." Gunther replies with a chuckle. "I'm sick of sitting around doing nothing already."

"Well you still have more of that to do." The ginger tells him, giving him a look. "But perhaps we can arrange something to occupy your mind as the time passes."

Gunther chuckles again as the woman applies the yarrow to his wound in smooth, gentle strokes.

"Sounds good. Gloomy air just kills me."

"Of course. Mood affects healing just as well as any herb. 'A good laugh and a long rest are the two best cures for anything'."

"Where did you hear that?" Eld asks from his place a few feet away, watching the woman with great interest.

"It's an old saying." The woman responds, "But it holds much truth to it."

"I like it." Petra says, resting her chin on her arms on the back of the couch.

"But does mood really affect how you heal?" Eren asks earnestly. "I thought they were just feelings."

"They are…" the woman answers, now wrapping a fresh bandage around Gunther's leg. "But how you feel affects everything in your body. Have you ever felt so lost or dejected that you had no will to eat or move? Instead you contented yourself with wallowing in your misfortune?"

Eren gives her a slight nod, as does everyone else.

"Just as negative feelings can drag you down, positive feelings can bring you up. A happy heart makes a happy body. It gives you the strength to fight back, to recover. A dejected spirit destroys itself; that is why when some choose to drown themselves in their sorrow though drinking or the like, it pulls them downward until they have nothing left, then they die."

Her words could not be any more true. I remember back many, many years ago, back to the days where the only world I knew had been the underground city. That place had no hope at all, and it was common occurrence to find the corpses of those who had lost the will to live, surrounded by their bottles of alcohol or whatever the hell they wished to kill themselves with.

All is quiet as she finishes, stuffing the end of the bandage into place and stands, resting her medical box on her hip.

"I'll change that later on tonight. Until then, I am sure you all wish to clean yourselves up."

"Oh yes, please. I just cannot stand these clothes any longer." Petra says, standing in slight excitement at the prospect of bath.

"I'm sure." The woman says, then points toward the back of the house. "There is a path just beyond that leads to a small lake. It is a bit of a walk, but the trail is clear and flat. Give me a moment and I'll give you a towel and some soap root to take with you."

"I claim first!" Petra exclaims as the woman leaves, and soon, everyone is arguing about who should go next. "Oluo will just have to go last, the lazy pig." Petra huffs, throwing a condescending look at the door where the man still sleeps.

"What about me?" Gunther interjects with a look of dejection. "It's not like I can get up and walk down there, and I will NOT sit here covered in blood and sweat."

Eld laughs and nudges the other man.

"Maybe you can persuade Petra to give you a wash?" he says, to which Petra gasps.

"Eld!" she says reproachfully, looking about ready to hit him.

"Shut your mouth Eld… That's my future wife you're talking about." Comes a gruffly voice as Oluo finally emerges from his hideout, yawning and rubbing his hand over his ruffled hair.

Petra turns and crosses her arms.

"I am not your wife Oluo."

Oluo merely shrugs his shoulders, yawning again.

"Whatever you say."

"Don't tell me you're about to kill each other over a couple baths…"

I turn my attention to the voice as the ginger haired woman appears from the hallway holding a basket full of folded cloth towels and several oddly shaped roots.

"No. Petra just gets embarrassed whenever Oluo calls her his wife." Eren tells her, smiling, to which Petra nearly screams.

"I am not married to that pig!"

"Oi Petra, that stings…" Oluo looks at her, a hurt expression on his face, to which the auburn haired woman ignores, taking a towel and lump of root from the basket.

"Just behind the house?" she asks, to which the woman nods.

"About a half mile walk from here. There is a shallow end near the left. Just take the root and crush it up when you're ready to wash."

"Alright, and thank you again." Petra thanks her, turning and almost runs to the door, shutting it behind she is gone, Eren casts his eyes to me, questioning.

"You were awfully quiet Corporal." the teen states.

I just blink, expression bored.

"Not my problem."

"Well I still have a problem…." Gunther slides in, gazing up at the ginger woman. "Is there a way I can get cleaned up here?"

"I can fill up a large trough with water for you. It's outside, but it's stored upside down so it stays clean. Someone can assist you to and fro."

Gunther grunts, "Guess that's the best I'll get."

"Alright, I shall get it started for you." The woman says and heads for the door.

"You need help?" Eld asks, but the woman shakes her head.

"No thank you. I can manage on my own." She tells him. "It will be a while to fill it up all the way, so help yourselves to the cabinets. There are carrots, potatoes, and I think a handful of fruit along with a sack of dried meat in the far right one."

Oluo grunts and immediately starts rummaging through her stores, muttering, "Great. I'm about to starve to death."

"Do you really have no manners Oluo?" Gunther calls over the back of the couch as Oluo stuffs a piece of meat in his mouth, making the brown haired man shake his head. "Barbaric."

With nothing else to say, the woman leaves, and the room in thrown into silence save for Oluo's munching. Gunther sighs and rests his head back, casting a glance at me.

"I'm sorry 'bout this Corporal."

I shift my focus on him.

"What do you have to apologize for?"

Gunther shrugs and rubs his wounded leg with a bit of regret.

"I messed up and nearly got killed. Now you're all stuck waiting on me to heal."

At his words, I instantly hit him with a glare, making him flinch.

"NEVER apologize for surviving," I burn him, molding my words slowly. "Got it?"

"Yes sir." He replies in a hushed voice, eyes on the ground.

I fold my arms and turn to stare out the window from which I can just barely see the woman attach some kind of harness with buckets built in onto her giant of a horse.

"If there is one thing you should never feel sorry about is living to see another day." I continue in a hushed voice, watching the woman idly.

"You're right." Gunther replies, and lifts his head to watch the same window I am.

"How do you think she ended up here?" Eld asks after a moment as the woman disappears from our view.

"Cause she's crazy…" Oluo spits out, taking a seat in the rocking chair roughly, a handful of dried meat in his hand. "Who cares how she got here. She's crazy and that's all that matters. A titan is gonna eat her up eventually."

Eld frowns at him, "It is a bit crazy, but there must be a reason. It doesn't look like she lives here with any family…"

"Maybe she did, and she's the only one left?" Gunther adds solemnly.

"Wouldn't she have left then?" Eren says, thinking. "That still doesn't explain why she's here in the first place. She's lived here for a while…."

I turn my head to him.

"How do you know?"

"Well," he begins, "There is a lot of stuff in the basement from what I saw, and in the room Petra, Oluo and I are using, there are a few bookcases just filled with books. And the dressers are filled with all kinds of clothes…"

Oluo nearly chokes on his jerky and pounds his chest while giving the kid a sly grin.

"You raided her drawers, kid?" he says, which instantly turns Eren straight pink all over.

"N… No! Of course not!" he stutters, stiff as a board. "I would never go through a woman's drawers!"

Oluo scoffs and laughs, "Whatever you say kid…"

At that the topic is dropped as the men ramble about everything from women to how they broke their arm trying to climb a tree when they were younger. The mystery of the previous question has left them easily enough, but not for me.

I mull it in my head over and over… I am puzzled by it, by the woman herself. By all logic and reason I can come up with, there IS no reason for her to be here, yet here she is apparently living a normal life in a crook in the woods. How is that even possible?

The dense forest is natural protection from the monsters laying in wait outside, but surely it isn't one hundred percent effective. Some must make their way in sometimes, more than likely just scrawny 5 meter classes. But how does she protect herself? Does she hide? Where? And the land outside the walls has not seen human habitation for over a century yet here she lives in a sturdy house filled with personal belongings. Where did she get them? How did she manage to bring them here herself?

Nothing makes sense, none of it. There is just no way for it to be possible. If titans have the strength to break through solid walls, how the hell does she manage to survive outside of them on her own?

'The woman is hiding something, that I'm damn sure of…'

Time passes uneventfully for a while, Oluo and Gunther do most of the talking with Eld and Eren watching on, commenting every now and again. Petra returns soon enough, hair damp but wearing a blissful smile on her face.

"I don't think I've ever been so happy with a bath..." She smiles wistfully, rubbing her hair with her towel.

Eld looks around for a moment then stands, picking up a towel and root of his own from the basket from where the ginger woman had left it on the floor.

"Guess I'm next." He says, then heads out, causing Oluo to sit up in his chair.

"Wait! When do I get a turn!?"

"When everyone else is finished." Petra says, chiding him. "You should have gotten up earlier if you wanted to go sooner."

"How was I supposed to know!? You're so cruel Petra…" Oluo whines.

"Oh I think you'll live…" is all Petra replys him with, taking Eld's place on the couch beside Gunther.

And so that is how the next hour or so passes by; talk and more talk. Eren goes next after Eld's return and, after numerous attempts to give me the next go, I let Oluo leave after him.

The ginger haired woman appears and disappears numerous times in the window from where she goes back and forth fetching water, though I can only guess from where. At least she has the decency to fetch it somewhere else other than her little lake, else Eld, Eren and Oluo would have come back in a rush complaining about a peeping tom.

Soon enough, though, she finishes and enters the house, interrupting Eren and Gunther's game of Slap.

"The basin is ready for you Gunther." She calls from the door.

At her voice, Gunther sighs and puts down his cards.

"It was just getting good too." He mutters, but folds up the deck of cards in its box, Eren placing it back in the drawer of the small wood carving table where he had found them earlier.

"Would you like me to assist you?" the woman offers from the open door.

"I can help him." Eren eagerly jumps in. "If that's alright with you Gunther."

The wounded man just shrugs.

"Works for me. As long as SOMEONE helps me."

Eren nods and quickly walks around the table to help Gunther stand, throwing the brown haired man's arm around his neck to help support him

"It's just this way." The woman leads, holding the door as Gunther gingerly hops his way out.

Not long after they exit, Oluo returns, a satisfied look on his face.

"Well you're up next Corporal." He states, plopping heavily onto the couch, drying his hair.

'Guess I'll go.'

I really have no desire if I'm honest with myself. Thoughts are too heavy in my head, questions without answers, and I want to get to the bottom of it all. Nothing frustrates me more than not knowing, and this mysterious woman is killing me.

But even with all this pent up frustration, I stand and without reply grab a root and towel and head out the door.

Walking around to the back of the house, Eren and the woman are just now getting Gunther to the basin. She tells him something about 'Keeping the wound as dry as possible' as she messes with the wrappings on his leg. I pass them by without comment and make my way into the woods, following a thin but worn down path.

Soon there is nothing but the sound of leaves rustling and the occasional bird as I make my way through the winding trail. Just as the woman said, about a half mile in the trees break and a body of water appears before me.

It's not large, but not small, fed by a nice sized creek just to my right. Sunlight dances on the lakes surface, glittering in time with the ripples.

Stepping off the path, I make way to the left and find that side to be surprisingly shallow, water washing lazily against the grassy bank and a good number of large rocks line the border of it almost like a natural shelf.

With an instinctual glance to both of my sides to insure I am alone, I place my soap root on the stone nearest me and undress. I recoil slightly from the lake's coldness as I step in, but soon I grow used to the temperature and step in up to my chest, silently relishing the feeling of water on my body.

'It really is quite nice…' I muse, and sink further in until the water kisses my neck.

For a moment, I lean my head back and just let it float, a hushed hum sounding in my ears as water covers them.

It's easy to forget where I am when relaxing like this; easy to believe that titans and death don't exist here. But they do.

Erwin's face comes to my mind, and soon, everyone's faces appear, both alive and dead, destroying any illusion of peace I have. The most prominent face of all those to appear is one of a woman, a fair, freckled face framed by ginger hair.

My eyes snap open.

'There is something she isn't telling us.' I ponder, lifting my head out of the water to stand again. 'She's made no mention of why she is here. No mention of her family. No history. No motive… Nothing. Hell, I just realize now that she never even told us her name.'

At that, I turn at stare back the way I had come as if I can see the house beyond. Cool determination hardens my features.

'One way or another, I'll get the information out of her.'

With a low scoff, I retreat from my daze and busy myself with crushing my root into soap. It takes a minute to do so, and several times longer to clean myself of every speck of dirt and sweat. By the time I finish, the sun is high in the sky bearing it's heat down on my head. After stepping out to dry myself, I get redressed, cringing at the stiffness of the soiled clothes, and make my way back.

From what I can tell, Gunther is still in the middle of washing himself, and I quickly swerve to go around the other side of the house to give him some privacy. Throwing my damp towel around my neck, I head inside and immediately smell the beginnings of a meal.

Everyone is inside doing some kind of work. A nice pile of potatoes rest on the large table in front of the couch where Eld and Eren are peeling them; Petra stands by the kitchen counter, the sound of knife hitting wood greeting me as she cuts up carrots; and the woman sits in the rocking chair, a large open bag in her lap, swiftly and skillfully shelling peas. Oluo stands in the entrance of the hallway, fingering over a new maroon shirt.

"Not bad." He says walking over to Petra, grabbing a knife and bundle of carrots of his own.

At the sound of my entrance, the woman lifts her head.

"Welcome back. There is a change of clothes for you in the first door to the right. Yours lays on the large dresser next to the bookcases. Just leave your towel in the corner with the others. I'll fetch for them later." She says as I finally take notice that everyone is in a new change of clothes.

All the men pretty much wear slight variants of the same outfit; light button up shirts with trousers, while Petra dawns a blouse and skirt similar to what the woman wears.

Without a word, I make my way into the room and shut the door, ready to be out of this filthy uniform. The room is simple and without decoration much like the main rooms. To my left, three beds line the walls pretty much end to end, interrupted only by two small dressers. Beside them to the right in the farthest corner, bordering three large bookcases, stands a large dresser with a stack of neatly folded clothes, just like she said.

Without wasting time, I grab the garments and quickly change, letting out a mental sigh at the feel of clean, sweat free clothes against my skin. It is nothing special, just a pair of tan trousers and a light weight white shirt just a tad too large, but it is a relief nevertheless.

Brushing a hand through my drying hair, I grab my soiled towel to throw it in the floor, but stop.

Out of slight curiosity, I take in the contents of the bookcases in front of me; wooden, just like everything else, and filled end to end with numerous titles that I scan idly with my eyes. 'The History of Nations', 'Letters of the Century', 'Leader', 'Real Stories of the Great War'… None of these titles make much sense to me, but frankly I don't really care. The entire first bookcase is filled with nothing but historical texts in all sizes, colors, thickness, and subject.

'Boring enough.' I think bluntly to myself, turning my attention to the next case.

This one is not nearly as full, but still holds a variety of tomes among other things. Small, empty vases sit on several shelves along with useless nick-knacks and other junk. A single, lonely doll made of yarn smiles blankly at me from above, arm slung over a small stack of books. These differ greatly from their neighbors in that they are works of fiction with names such as 'The Two Towers', 'A Clash of Kings', and 'Chronicles of Narnia'.

'Rubbish. What use is made up stories?' I growl before moving on.

The last case holds even less literature than the previous ones, but even then, the small number of books grouped together on the top shelf are pristine; bound and placed with its brothers with obvious care.

Oddly enough, all are written by the same author, a woman by the name of Generva Connor. Intrigued, I carefully take one off the shelf and hold it for a moment. 'A Child Named Bird' is small, bound by a simple brown jacket, and its pages are yellowing parchment, the novel written in elegant script in neat, delicate rows.

I don't read it, but I can't help but feel its weight. It's obvious it's a personal script, the kind you write to send in and get published into decent volumes. Had the woman written this? I doubt it. The pages are to aged and the script to fine to have been written recently.

With a final glance and slight urging from my stomach, I place it back in its spot by the others, hunger making itself known.

'I can't even remember the last time I had eaten. Yesterday morning?'

Perhaps, and waking up without a cup of coffee or hot tea makes it that much harder. Tossing my towel on top of the small pile of others on the floor along with my filthy uniform, I head back to the others.

"Get lost Corp?" Gunther jibes from the couch as I return, now fresh and clean.

"Tch."

Gunther laughs and gives a half-assed apologetic smile.

"Just wondering was all. You were in there a while."

Conceding to not answer him, I fold my arms and lean against the wall since every other chair is taken. Most everyone is relaxing now aside from the woman who crouches in front of the lit fireplace, a large cauldron boiling in its heat.

"It won't be anything extraordinary, but it will suffice." She says, stirring the mixture with a wooden ladle.

"Anything sounds good right now. We're all starving." Gunther says gratefully.

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever been so hungry." Petra sighs, resting a hand on her abdomen, earning a soft chuckle from the ginger haired woman.

"Well you won't have to wait much longer." She says, lifting a spoonful of broth carefully to gaze at it before pouring it back in.

With food on everyone's minds and the growing smell of stew in the air, all falls quiet aside from the faintest whisper of humming coming from the woman that I'm sure I'm the only one close enough to hear. Nothing happens until the woman stands a good time later.

"I believe it is ready." She says much to everyone's relief, gently gliding past me to fetch a stack of plain bowls and spoons from the cabinet, individually handing them out.

"'Bout time. I call first!" Oluo announces, jumping up from where he sits against the wall and scurries over to the pot, pouring a generous amount into his bowl.

"Hey! Leave some for us Oluo!" Petra spouts mortified, dashing up to be next in line.

Soon everyone save Gunther is on their feet, jousting position to get their own share of broth. The woman watches on, filling Gunther's bowl for him, to which the man thanks her gratefully.

Unwilling to fight my now childish squad, I go last, spooning a couple ladles worth into my own bowl as everyone digs in.

"Not the best thing I've ever tasted, but it beats plain jerky." Oluo sputters, savoring his share with rare enthusiasm.

"Oh, there is jerky in there as well, though I regret that it isn't fresh. It would have turned out better if I had." The woman replies, taking a sip.

"It's still amazing." Eren smiles toward her, sitting with his back against the side of the couch next to Eld.

"It really is." The blond says, also sliding a small smile at her. "You've been very generous with us."

The woman turns her head away in embarrassment, muttering, "I only do what I know must be done. I'm not in the habit of letting anything starve."

"But it's more than that." Petra and, gratitude on her features. "It's for everything."

Eren nods.

"You've given us food, clean clothes, and a place to stay." He says, earnest. "You didn't have to but you did it anyway. We're all grateful to you. Thanks."

The woman brushes her hair of her eyes with a small hand, glancing up at him.

"You have no need to thank me…"

"But we do, and we want to." Gunther nods slightly, gesturing to our group. "We'd be lost, dirty, and hungry as hell if it weren't for you. And I would be up a creek with this leg of mine, but you've volunteered to help with that too…"

He stops for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face.

"You know, we've been sitting here bothering you for a whole day now and we never even bothered to ask you your name…"

At that, everyone lifts their heads, and a similar look coming across all of them except for me. Everyone was so concentrated on worrying, and the fact that they were pretty much doomed out here yet still alive, that the thought of the woman who was caring for them having a name never crossed their mind.

"I'm sorry." Petra mutters finally, breaking the awkward silence. "We've been so rude!"

The woman waves the comment away with her hand.

"It's alright. There have been things of more urgent matter than my name." she responds, setting her half empty bowl down on the floor so she can mess with the tie in her hair.

"Still…" Petra whispers, Eld finishing her statement. "We'd like to know."

All ears turn toward the woman as she looks up at all of us who have eaten her food and taken up residence in her home so abruptly. With a final tug, her hair tie comes apart, and shiny dark ginger locks fall to rest just on the top of her shoulders, long sweeping bangs framing her eyes as she calmly answers them. My ears strain to hear her words.

"My name is Avian." She says simply.

*Authors Note*

UPDATED 10-14:Fixed minor grammar errors and reworded phrases.

Well it's about time. What an odd name too... Anywho, hope you've enjoyed this newest chapter cause it was a doosie to write. Make sure to leave your thoughts and comments in a review, because reviews are my life blood and I need 'em oAo Until next time!

-Ambi