After the death of young Connor and his mother, there was little reason for the girls to return to the Davenport Homestead. With this thought, Anne felt as if her grief had been multiplied now that she was unlikely to see her hunter friends again. However, Antinanco, being familiar with the huge expanse of forest that covered Lexington, Concord and the Davenport Homestead, soon found the travelling men close to where the two had first met.

It had been difficult to slip away from her mother and sister, particularly when she had been restricted to the house all day to help with chores. But Anne decided she couldn't stand it any longer, angrily called it oppressive arrest under her breath before she crept out the back door.

"I do not think this is such a good idea, Anne." Antinanco bit his lip as they made their way through the forest.

"Oh, nonsense! They're good men. And besides," she turned with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, more commonly seen among her sister's features, "if anything were to happen, I know you'll protect me."

With a grin, she skipped ahead, leaving the grumbling boy in her wake.

"You should not expect me to get you out of every mess you get yourself into." He said, but patted his hunting knife for security, just in case.

"'Every mess I get myself into'?!" She exclaimed, offended. "Name one time!"

"When we first met, I saved you from a bear you disturbed." He raised and eyebrow and she shut up.

"Fine."

When they neared the campfire, George spotted them first, waving a hand with a smile as his companions turned to see the new arrivals.

"If it isn't the little lady, Anne... And her friend." He greeted, still unfamiliar with Antinanco's name. "How are you two today?"

"We're well, thank you," she smiled, sitting down with the group.

"Some more so than others," a young man remarked, noting the native boy's behaviour. He sat beside Anne, a hand over his knife, and watching every movement.

"Ah, you haven't met Richard have you?" Bill waved to the observant young man, no more than five or six years older than Anne. "He moved here recently from Boston."

"I'm an apprentice blacksmith." He nodded.

"Pleasure to meet you." Anne gave an enchanting smile and Antinanco bristled. Anne had never met a boy around her own age other than himself so this... This was new. He felt a strange sort of anger, a sort of protective instinct over her from this young man. He had a chiseled face, darkened with soot and bristle, but not as dark as his hair which was a thick jet black, tied back in a simple ponytail, not quite as long as Antinanco's.

"I tell you what, Richard, you've missed out on hearing the lass sing." George said. "She has a voice like a song bird on a summer's morn'."

"I should like to hear you sing." Richard turned to her, a gentle smile on his dirtied, sharp featured face.

She blushed and Antinanco fought the urge to draw his knife.

Richard's eyes flickered to this display and smirked, but said nothing. He had discovered a weakness.

"What song shall I sing?" Anne asked the group, oblivious to the silent battle that was fought between her.

"Oh, that lovely Scottish one," one of the men said, a grin spreading across his face, "reminds me of when I was a lad."

"The Mull of Kintyre?"

"Aye, that's the one."

As she began to sing, the chirping of the birds and the whistling of the wind softened and accompanied her song, creating a perfect harmony to her melody.

The men closed their eyes, finding that brief moment of perfect peacefulness that seemed only supplied by her voice. It was a voice that softened hearts and calmed souls. Antinanco's hand relaxed, the knife forgotten, as the song cast a spell over them, only to be broken when she finished singing. Richard forgot about the strange native boy, all he could see was Anne, a beautiful voice to match her beautiful face, and he knew he would never love another girl like how he loved her.

"Richard, lad, you alright?" Bill said as the song faded away and the now irregular bird song and seemingly random whistle of the forest returned. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Richard felt as if he had. As if he had seen some unearthly, heavenly being, bewitched by the music. He found a grin, breaking out of the trance Anne had set over them. She caught his eyes and blushed again.

"You sing beautifully, Anne," Richard breathed.

"Oh, thank you," she mumbled modestly.

Antinanco felt his hand creep back to the knife.

The day trailed on and the sun made its familiar course, soon climbing down behind the trees of the forest and making the clearing glow bright.

"It's time we should go," Anne said, noting the time of day. "My mother will need me to help with dinner."

"Well, thank you for your company, as always," George said as she and Antinanco stood. "And for your singing, beautiful as always."

"Thank you, it's been a pleasure," she smiled.

"The pleasures all ours, bye for now, love!"

"Good bye!" She called as the two left the group and made their way through the forest.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Anne halted and spun, pointing a finger at Antinanco.

"What was your problem back there?!" She exploded, taking the boy by surprise.

"What problem?" He turned away, ignoring the question.

"You barely said anything for the whole time we were there and you looked at Richard like you wanted to kill him! What did he do to offend you?!"

"Nothing, it was nothing."

"It didn't look like nothing."

"You should not worry."

"Well, I am." She huffed and pouted, folding her arms as she faced the unresponsive boy who still stood with his back to her.

"You should go home."

"I'm not going anywhere until I know what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong."

"Antinanco," she reached for his shoulder but he shook her off. "I've known you for long enough to know when something's wrong. Please, tell me."

He turned, slowly, refusing to look her in the eyes.

"Richard... Richard is attracted to you."

"Oh?"

"He is a good match for you, someone who your parents would approve of."

Taken aback by the remark, Anne tried to make a joke.

"But he has soot and dirt all over him, I don't think my parents would approve of that!" She chuckled.

"But scrub that away and there is still a white man beneath, you cannot wash the dark off of me!" He burst, his soft, gentle eyes suddenly bright with pain.

"Antinanco..." Anne searched for words, further shocked by his outburst. "What are you trying to say?"

"I..." His voice trailed away, more lost for words than his friend as his eyes dimmed, the moment of explosive expression now passed.

"Antinanco," Anne shook her head, dumbstruck, "why would my parents care what colour skin you have? Why would I worry about whether they approve or not-"

The realisation hit her.

"Wait, do you-" she began as Antinanco, like a disturbed deer, shot away into the trees.

With her arms still held out, reaching for him, Anne stood in the golden bathed forest wondering what was actually on his mind.